Editor Sean McKlusky's Pick:
The Quince
by Pat Tompkins
conjures up medieval feasts
looks like a yellow apple
delivers a delicate flavor
doesn't taste like much
diffuses elusive aromas
doesn't smell like much
belongs to the rose family
rarely shows up in produce markets
signals the arrival of autumn
must be cooked to be eaten
makes fine preserves and jelly
means work — who has time to cook?
will live forever in poets' words
remains the only fruit that starts with "q"
offers a subtlety unappreciated today
travels well, but will never be a cash crop