persimmons?

I have only known persimmon through other people. I'm not entirely sure I know what it is.

I imagine a group of children of some mingled, confused ethnicity, laughing and eating persimmon seeds, which exist in potentiality with the children themselves.
I imagine a woman preparing persimmon pie. A man appears. They are both sad to discover the children do not exist.
The children themselves are happy. Having eaten their persimmon, they are sticky with its juices. Soon they will run to the lake and go skinny-dipping and shiver. They will catch pneumonia and stay in bed for weeks and it will all be worth it.

The man and woman are older, now, not so sad. They have a persimmon bush which does not exist, yet takes the place of the children. They had a persimmon flower for awhile, but their neighbors kept talking about it - “I didn't know persimmon was a flower!” and they had to get rid of it. Also, they stopped speaking to their neighbors.
They will move soon, they have decided, somewhere where persimmons grow on trees, and there are lakes.

I long for a day when I, too, can be face-to-face with persimmon, and know it. I worry – have we been in its presence already? Have we spent time together eating something we thought was papaya or parsnip?
Perhaps a persimmon expedition is in our future. We'll start small – Safeway. Giant. Asian/Indian/Mexican groceries.
From there, it's an easy step to the jungle, with its hothouse persimmons and persimmon piranhas around every corner. Persimmon tree frogs will serenade us. We'll stay with our friends and their persimmon tree and their beautiful, wonderful children.