A Quarterly Journal of Contemporary English Language Haibun
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June 2009, vol 5 no 2

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Adelaide B. Shaw


Blood Oranges

A rarity, blood oranges at the market. I buy several and remember her delight when she found them again, decades after leaving her home in the Sicilian hills. The mottled red-orange skin, the reddish flesh, juicy and sweet.

I add goat cheese to my cart and remember her stories about buying cheese and milk from the goat boy every morning.

I remember her dark eyes and warm smile and her deft way with a cooking spoon.

I arrange the red segments, spiraling them on a plate, toss a few cubes of goat cheese here and there, squeeze on some of the red juice, sprinkle with olive oil, salt and a generous shake of freshly ground black pepper.

lunch under the pines
the breeze stirs up a fragrance
from afar

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