Strawberry of the imagination.

Rows of body bags: the fruit of war drying in the sun. - Saiom Shriver

When will families dance around a strawberry like a bonfire? Only when the last fruit has been picked from the last tree; how unreasonable! Distribute all strawberries immediately onto the grass, let the dew cling to them like the residue of a wet kiss. When the children and the wives and the husbands have awoken, the strawberries will be giants, casting large strawberry shadows, the veins will ripple as the juice circulates beneath the red skin. The families will dance around like there was no yesterday and is no tomorrow, infinity being only one day in summer that everyone is able to enjoy, without hand grenades falling from branches.

*Something about strawberries.