Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Blueberry daydream


Cartons of blueberries, two for a dollar
At the Chinatown fruit market
Where the air is hot, even in November
Stinking with fish and old fruit
And the pigeons hop about the sidewalk out front
Scavengers, waiting for the kill.

A grey old spark of a man
Wrinkled and wintered
Rests his cane against the potato sacks
And crouches by the blueberry cartons
He’s there when I get in the checkout line
And there when I leave
Examining each carton meticulously
Squinting through thick bifocals.

I like to imagine him shuffling home
To his little grey house
He takes out his plump, sweet blueberries
The best fruit a dollar can buy
Washes them tenderly in the sink
He’ll eat them at his kitchen table
From a white porcelain bowl
Close his eyes
Pop them in his mouth one at a time
Hold them, ‘til his tongue turns blue
A delicacy.

2 comments:

Abbas said...

You remind me of Amelie Poulain. If you haven't seen the film, you really should.

katie said...

i really like this one sister. i like to picture things like that too. its fun to imagine a strangers life past what you see.