So full of sugar,
the ripe plums
on the counter
begin to split
their skin—a sign
they’re beginning
the journey
to wine.
Sometimes,
like today,
hiking through
spruce forests and
wildflower meadows,
past beaver ponds
and through
clearings of chanterelles,
I, too, feel as if
I could split—
so filled with
the sweetness
of life I almost
explode,
tipsier by the moment
broken open
by joy.