My Darling Clementine

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We spy you behind the orange veil, playing coy in the supermarket. You come from the land of living, and in our frozen white world, we crave the gold you guard, the vitamin C you hold and the nectar from those tropical gods who made you.

We wait all year for you to arrive, appearing late fall inside a Cleopatra’s fleet of exotic promise, displayed in tiers of temptation, surrounded by the usual peasant vegetables and utilitarian fruits. Unlike your giant navel cousins, you are small but mighty.

Once captured, you release your skin willingly, and when tenderly touched to the core, fall to pieces on our behalf. Each section can suspend time, until all of your seedless secrets are consumed.

Over the season, you offer yourself up in hopeful sacrifice, and linger beyond your best interests. Almost too late, you leave while we are welcoming in the spring. But we still mourn your absence, for you hold a place in our hearts, saving space for the returning sun.

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2 thoughts on “My Darling Clementine

  1. You had me with those first lines! The playing coy in no way prepared me for the Clementines! Such a good beginning. I particularly loved Cleopatra’s barge so close to the peasant vegetables and utilitarian fruits. Apostrophe to Clementine! You’re back!

    1. Ah, thanks for getting my awkward attempt at comparing a flat of clementines to Cleopatra’s barge! Imagination can certainly require a tall order sometimes. But those wonderful little orbs deserve the best treatment, don’t you think?

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