Orchard Triptych
1.
The woman watches her boys
plucking from the burdened trees—
giddy, they leave
a trail of bitten apples.
A partial list of words discarded:
cherub, rib, sin— No matter
how she tries she can’t escape
the stories embedded in the blood of her
as she stands dappled in sun—
golden light dipping through clouds
making her think
of hands reaching.
2.
Eden revised: Look. Innocent
her children gallivant through the garden.
Her wisdom notwithstanding. Her knowledge
of what is good notwithstanding.
No matter what she consumes
of the daily news: rapaciousness
of judges, clergymen, doctors—no matter—
Her sons laughing and hiding
amid the dying golden leaves.
3.
A partial list of words discarded:
snake, taste, blessing, grace. She watches
at a distance—her children darting past
her husband’s grasp—uncertain
if he sees what she sees: the myth of it—
the bodies of their bodies, little souls dancing
down the worn rut of a path
unaware of the thorns and thistles
wondering at the bounty
as if it were put here just for them.
Onna Solomon's poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Beloit Poetry Journal, Cimarron Review, Denver Quarterly, 32 Poems, and Crab Creek Review, among others. Her poem “Autism Suite” was awarded the Beloit Poetry Journal’s Chad Walsh Poetry Prize. She currently lives in Ann Arbor, MI with her husband and two sons.