-For Stevy, DDL, and Elizabeth Bishop
One day, in a freezing burst, a sunlit highway,
it was time to head north. First, the mother took
a long time eating the afterbirth, then I heard it was
the other way around. I would not be consuming any
part of myself any time soon, so we said goodbye
children we left behind, ones we would never meet,
balances always discover a way to balance out,
phantom pains. We didn’t look back, we didn’t need
to, states above Florida were much warmer, peeking
tulips permeated the tree line. Soon we fell into a Blue
Beard lull, months go by, then, “Did you notice where
these strawberries came from?” Dehydrated gems, delicacy
in this Midwestern Down to Earth place, I finally found you.
But you aren’t from around here like we are, why, why does
the carton say Made with love, St. Augustine, Florida.
Atrophic ghosts plague these once-innocent dried strawberries.