Before me, behind me

Farfalla, Emilio Pattoruti, 1961

By Sarah Wyman

By the time I was back

the fruit was ready

unflappably blue through

cool pepper sheets

each corner grabbing a half

I wasn’t sure I wanted.

And maybe that’s why

I bought everything twice,

paired in the cart:

double salami, two rolls of rice cakes

and a couple of cheeses,

differing logs

white creamy for the crush

under a fruit compote

berry stems still hanging

on the bush out back.

Waiting for your return

despite not missing you

as I should,

the peekaboo of curtains,

the uncovered photos of you

and other lovers

made you easy to dismiss.

But still some juicy reunion

might transpire, might count, might come.

I could put a couple of candles

on the table and mash the sweet blues

behind or before your grandmother’s

old world scrims

and leave our lace unstained.

__________________________________________

Sarah Wyman lives in the Hudson Valley where she writes and teaches about literature and the visual arts at SUNY New Paltz. She co-facilitates the Sustainability Learning Community and teaches poetry workshops at Shawangunk Prison. Her poetry has appeared in aaduna, Mudfish, Ekphrasis, San Pedro River Review, Potomac Review, Lightwood, Heron Clan XI, A Slant of Light: Contemporary Women Poets of the Hudson Valley, and other venues. Her books are Sighted Stones (FLP 2018) and Fried Goldfinch (Codhill 2021).