Such an abundance of greens
under the glistening spray
of their afternoon shower,
but my mother, shopping for one
those first weeks
after my father died,
passes by the shaggy hedges
of arugula and fennel,
then the cabbages, melons,
the sprawling families
of Bing cherries,
of seedless grapes,
and places in the metal cart
a plump tomato and the curved
skiff of an unripe banana,
detached from the bunch,
that sets off in a wobble
across the lake of the floor.
Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 28, Issue 4.
Joseph Chelius has contributed poetry to Commonweal, Poetry East, Poet Lore, Rattle, THINK, and other journals. He has published two poetry collections with WordTech editions: The Art of Acquiescence (2014) and Crossing State Lines (2020).See all items about Joseph Chelius
