Summer Alchemy, or Plums, part 2

The plums from a few weeks ago became too ripe to eat before they went bad, so I took the couple of pounds we had and made a simple, no pectin jam out of them. 

Apparently, plums make me want to write poetry. So here is the second one. If I can manage a third, does that make a series? 

Summer Alchemy (Plums, part 2)

Bubbling in the cauldron
Mass of yellow pulp
Distilling to a thick,
sweet, pungent,

golden memory 
of a summer
romance.