Love Poem to a
Navel Orange

The pierce first and then the fragrant release reminding me of Florida mornings and the trees lit   with song of parakeets. One bird finds a rival in my window’s reflection   and pokes the glass with its curved beak. We struggle for what we think is underneath.   I pull the segments apart little hemispheres with a fine arc   of spray. Middle finger thick. I place the first segment in my mouth.   Such a small eruption.  Such a drenching seduction. Carol Berg

Carol Berg (bergcaro@gmail.com) is addicted to her homemade banana chocolate-chip muffins and eats them two at time, like cookies.