Filleting the Melon

It could be a salmon
Or some other fish laying here
Once connected in a telepathic school
Propelling itself in a jaunty flick against the current
Upstream to my kitchen

But it didn’t swim
It came from an Ewa field, tethered
By vine and root to other plants
That remain or are gone now, too

I am at the water’s edge
Catch ‘n release, away you slip-
In gritty contaminants
While sink washing, freely splashing

Horizontal poise
Snares stainless glint
Filleting flesh, discarding skin
Groove in board harbors juices wept
From succulent pink
Of melon’s sweetest meat.

Talk story

  1. BetweenWatersUnseen says:

    I love the violence here, so subtle.

  2. Rhonda Arnold says:

    Appreciate your comment. Thank you.

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