Stone Fruit
When I am full enough of life,
lay me down in a bed
of half an apricot–
dried and sticky,
tangy and sweet.
Wrap me in the womb
of a stone fruit
and plant me
inside a heart of dirt.
Watch me grow again,
the stone itself,
the seed itself,
the crumpled twist of life unfurling.
܀
When we come together
on this earth,
we are sweet and sticky
and tart with heartache.
Let us dream of fruit.
Ciara McCormack is a human, educator, dancer, and poet living in Seattle, Washington. She takes great pleasure in looking out the window (any window) and wallowing in longing. Ciara’s poetry can be found in print in the Untidy Season Anthology (2014 Nebraska Book Award), Oberon, Generations Literary Journal, and others. On the interwebs, she can be found on Instagram @cnawahi, Twitter @CiaraNawahi and ciaragreenwalt.com