Tag: fruit

 

I’ve never understood why fruit might be chopped and buried in flour and sugar

or hot

or honeyed or

baked

in a tart

when it is best straight off the vine or tree or bush…

Best when you’ve hiked up a mountain, and are standing in your old sneakers, the ones that slip on the rocks and send you tumbling,

But they still fit, so they’ll do,

And you are sent with an empty yogurt container to fill

But when no one’s looking, you eat whole handfuls,

small purple stains blooming like bruises on your legs and fingers and lips.