Poem: August

full and red and begging to be picked

Kimber Was Here is a record of how I make sense of the world. These essays are my oranges. Thanks for following along :)

Hello all,

August has flown by! This month has always felt like the New Year for me with the beginning of school. Now that I am taking a break from teaching full-time, I have felt major FOMO when I go to Target and see the new multi-colored notebooks and pristine pencil packs.

Teaching is not something I am giving up on forever. With the move and needing to leave my old school, I didn’t feel like recommitting again to a new curriculum and culture and coworkers and students if we were only going to be here for a year. Teaching is so incredibly personal and vulnerable, and it’s painful for me to think about my students I've left behind in Texas. I am someone who feels things so deeply, and in a way, not teaching this year is a way of protecting my cute little tender heart.

Me as a teacher. I was the sponsor of the South Asian Student Association club on campus, so here I am dressed up in borrowed beautiful traditional clothing :)

With that decision has come new challenges and a change of pace. As someone who thrives on routine, I don’t really like waking up and trying to figure out how I’m going to spend my time that day. I’ve been drawing and reading and writing and yoga-ing a lot more, and I’ve even hired a Chinese tutor to brush up on my Mandarin! But honestly, I miss the day-to-day of being constantly overstimulated by teenagers trying to get my attention and then going home and wanting to shut myself in a room with no lights or noise. And I didn’t think I’d say that :)

On a happier note, a few days ago, we had a themed dinner with some friends! The theme was “Memories of the Fruits of Summer.” I’m always up for a good theme, and this one did not disappoint. We all laughed at how many peaches there were, but nobody complained.

Peach blueberry salad, peach glazed salmon, peach caprese, and later on we had a peach dessert… YUM!

Moving into this house means that we’ve inherited some fruit trees! And our peach tree is bursting with sunset-colored globes of goodness, which inspired August’s poem below. I’m constantly humbled by nature’s ability to grow and let go, year after year.

Enjoy xx

August

In August,
The burdened fruit trees are generous. 
The markets are filled with their jams and juices
Baskets brimming with sweetness

Golden evenings make
Everything more ripe and willing

Among the warmth and the heat,
Sometimes an unexpected breeze
Sends goosebumps up your shoulders. 
“Did you feel that?” you’ll ask 
no one in particular, 

remembering

Each year, the golden hues will turn into blues,
but in August, the strain of the year 
is full and red and begging to be picked

You know this, but still you stand by your peach tree dumbly, 
basket in arms, 
willing the swollen fruit to fall on its own. 

Thanks for reading,

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Poem: June

Poem: July

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