by Michelle Quevedo

The other day on the road
You mentioned a plum.
All the conversation following it
fell away, forgotten.
But plum.
Round, juicy, and outlandishly purple.

All of those unnamed cravings,
Maybe it was a plum danish
All this time.
A buttery oatmeal crumble.
A flaking, falling, gooey pie.
Some cinnamon, sugar, a plum
From the neighbor’s orchard.

Michelle lives amongst the orchards and vineyards of Oregon with her outstanding husband and precious baby, holding her hopes and releasing her fears.

Photography by Kenneth Godoy

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