My sympathy to those of you
not living in or passing through
the Garden State at summer's end;
You don't know what you're missing, friend.

Our corn deserves its reputation
as best of any in the nation —
milky kernels, sugar-sweet,
a buttered, salty, summer treat.

Imagine summer on your tongue —
those happy times when you were young
and days were never-ending bliss —
Jersey Sweet Corn tastes like this.


This poem first appeared on the Society of Classical Poets website (December 2016).
Used here with permission.