First Fruit
Fannie Burlingame, DeLand, Florida, 1889
The first green fruit
hides among leaves.
The oranges feel hard
as limes, the skin
blister-tight. Soon cool nights
will loosen flesh into ripeness
and suffuse fruit
with a golden blush.
Once, as a child, I plundered
the Duchess tree in our garden.
Pale yellow with rosy stripes,
the apples glittered on the tree.
I knew the colors needed to deepen,
but I could not resist
the fruit’s speckled beauty.
I devoured apple after apple,
my teeth piercing crisp skin,
my tongue curling from tart flesh.
I could not keep myself from feeding,
even as the first pangs of sickness
stung my side. My mother found me,
cores strewn about my black boots,
my dress stained with juice.
I will never forget her palm
pressing forgiveness
into my forehead,
nor my heart’s dull pulse already
heavy with the waiting before me. 
Fannie Burlingame’s Herbarium
First Fruit