Before the Cold Season
Around the rotting wooden boat
overturned and abandoned, wild roses
grow thick in blossom and stalk.
By fall, dropped petals allow the swelling
of pendant hips, best eaten
when they've grown translucent.
Pull off the end, the thing that looks
like a jester's cap—others might say
a claw—and begin your chewing.
It's easy. Just wheel the fruit
with your tongue and teeth
then spit out the seeds
and suck. Skin and pulp
are left you, my friend,
and now is the time to establish
what's apparent: nothing's collapsed—
you are in the cemetery of roses,
and winter's breath is young.
ANNE CORAY’s debut novel Lost Mountain was published in 2021 with West Margin Press. Read more.