Grapefruits

            Everywhere we looked, bright grapefruits sat like endeavoring Buddhas in the dewy grass. The pensively interlocked branches above our heads were completely barren and the leaves looked haggard, as if they had just returned from an unexpectedly long crusade. Peeling open a grapefruit, diamond-clear juice cascaded out. Before long, butterflies with luminescent green wings had enfolded us into a shimmering cloud, and one by one perched on the opened grapefruit like eager pilgrims finally seeing the object of their prayers. And what an object it was. When we had finally each eaten a slice, our tongues danced like eloquent fireflies.