Selected Poems
Oranges
On game day afternoons
we hurry home from market
lug sacks of oranges
at the bursting point.
Pour and roll fruit out
across our kitchen counter.
Plunge our thumbs into navels,
fingernails burn and joints ache.
We quartered each one, so teammates
could quickly enjoy cold oranges
between breaks during games.
Coaches said oranges were
less filling and better than water.
Oranges would give us energy.
Thirsty, we placed faith and our hands
deep into the cooler and ate.
Every time, I eat an orange,
I still taste the sun.
Losing now, stings less.
we hurry home from market
lug sacks of oranges
at the bursting point.
Pour and roll fruit out
across our kitchen counter.
Plunge our thumbs into navels,
fingernails burn and joints ache.
We quartered each one, so teammates
could quickly enjoy cold oranges
between breaks during games.
Coaches said oranges were
less filling and better than water.
Oranges would give us energy.
Thirsty, we placed faith and our hands
deep into the cooler and ate.
Every time, I eat an orange,
I still taste the sun.
Losing now, stings less.
