I had not known you
except from a plastic bag,
poured out from a hole
cut in the corner with scissors.
My children stopped me there,
preferring you frozen,
Popping each icy kelly pearl into discriminate mouths
after discarding the shriveled.
But today little hands
instead of picking through a frosted pile,
pulled apart pods,
bags of the garden.
They learned what it takes to get a single pea.
And we tasted you for the first time fresh,
steamy dressed in butter and salt,
eating the work of our hands in quick delight.