
Softly now,
barefoot,
sneak your way
through the orchard gate.
Keep your head down
until you reach a tree
laden with succulent oranges.
Now pull one from a low-hanging branch.
Feel its pebbled peel
as you snatch it from its stem.
Hold this golden treasure
and give it a squeeze.
Dig your thumbs in deep
and strip it of its skin.
Now pull off a piece
and take a bite. The sweet juice
makes you smile and close your eyes
as you first taste its divine decadence.
You feel the fragrant delight
dripping down your neck
and sliding down your arms,
running a sticky track
to your elbows.
and trickling down to your hands,
You devour the orange,
inebriate of its zest.
The flavor now over,
and the nectar savored,
your theft is complete.
Make your way back
to the orchard gate.
Your hands may be empty,
but your treasure is not lost.
The stick stays long
after the orange is gone.
About the Poet
Cynthia Pitman has been published in Vita Brevis Press, Pain and Renewal, Brought to Sight & Swept Away, Amethyst Review, Ekphrastic Journal, Third Wednesday (One Sentence Poem finalist), Saw Palm: Florida Literature and Art (Pushcart Prize nominee), Red Fez (Story of the Week), and others. Her book, The White Room, was published by Aldrich Press/Kelsay Books.
For the first time in nearly five years, Vita Brevis is closed for submission. Read the full story here.
Sweet, an ode to the orange.
Love this journey you ushered us along, beautiful Cynthia