Bio Note: I am a Michigan writer and poet. I sent my first poem out two years ago and have been published in many journals and media outlets. New work is forthcoming in SWWIM and The Writer’s Foundry Review. I workshop with the Poetry Craft Collective, a group of poets who review and encourage each other’s writing. For nearly a decade, I was a docent at The Holocaust Center near Detroit.
You brought me an orange bouquet— long stemmed, cushioned in a white box, lined with lime green paper. I lifted the lid. All but one had wilted.
take me from this wooden crate unwrap me hold each end twirl my paper cover until the green tissue tears slowly turn me between your fingers inhale my fruity scent touch my cool skin against your cheek hold my roundness in your hand unblemished & newly ripe slice me into fours twist my thick stem scoop the seeds from my flesh then push them aside put me on your tongue let me linger & liquify sweetness dribbles down your chin stickiness stains your lip swallow
Winter squirrels, grey like night, climb to uncertain heights. they bear the cold, and own my yard. a simple life, not so hard.
©2023 Linda Laderman
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