Fairy Ring

by Claudia Martin

I once draped blankets from the peach trees
And scared away the birds who thieved our cherries.
I carved my name into a slender, silver trunk
And sat to read in a crook, just so,
God must have made for me.

I remember still the gravity
Toward a strange new world
When my father lifted a fresh sweet orange
From its carton-bed
Still wearing a shiny leaf.

Today this desert gives my son
A pomegranate.
He gnaws it, unimpressed.
But he will grow and someday know
The gravity of the peach tree blanket house.

Claudia Martin’s life is richer now than ever with aches and beauties that stand around like impatient taxi drivers, waiting to be beckoned and employed. Too often, they slip away just when she raises her arm to stop them.