Lemon Juice

This is remembering a lost loved one.

I squeezed the lemon

And the juices slid

Down my arm.

A slit from a past cut

Began burning,

And naturally I squeezed

Harder.

Somehow the burn became

Pleasurable,

LIke I needed to be

Reminded of pain.

Once I placed the lemon

Into the pitcher,

I washed away the burn

With water.

I patted my arm dry,

Placed the towel

On the counter,

And sat alone

At the aged kitchen table,

Staring at the blank wall,

Once covered

With your geese,

Your flowers,

Your biblical verses in frame.

Then I squeezed again

Until my nails

Dug into my palms.

It burned once more,

As it had in the past.

Soon it went away

Just as the lemon had,

But it had been pleasurable,

Like I needed to be

Reminded of you.

 

 

Reviews

[Wildecat]

This is a beautiful poem, a definite pleasure to read your poetry.