Each Day I Undress

[Each Day I Undress]

a clementine, using my small green

ceramic knife, a ritual

the morning needs to be complete—

I sit and look out, light

a candle against darkness and despair,

peel off the thick pebbly skin

to get down to fruit. Then pulling apart

sections, discarding the pith

or any stringy bits, I slowly place

each wedge in my mouth.

I become a tongue, a being that tastes—

relishing the juice, feeling thin

membranes yield. For those few

minutes I think of nothing,

inhabiting tastebuds and mouth.

It’s how I train myself

to disappear into the shagbark

hickory, the scarred maple,

the viburnum just about to flower.

In the moment, I’m inside one

of its buds, branch-tip quivering,

a tight knot of white and red, 

knuckle size, a coiled energy about 

to burst into petalled pale

balls, most likely tomorrow—wafting their scent

toward our bedroom windows

that I’ve left carelessly open, letting

each particle of scent in.

PATRICIA CLARK is the author of Self-Portrait with a Million Dollars, her sixth book of poems, and three chapbooks. Read more.


“Each Day I Undress” first appeared in Third Coast.

Previous
Previous

A Colloquy on Water

Next
Next

False Indigo