Flumes Vol. 4: Issue 1, Summer 2019 | Page 59

Arkansas Black

By Carolyn M. Crane

As I rock with you in the bed

two minutes into the new year

our eyes locked like our bodies

I see the faces of men

who taught me how my body moves

I hear the names of men

who gave me reasons to heal

I see the orchard

where you took me at twilight

right after we met

our eyes still shy

you looked out toward the pond

I studied your face

the colors of your plaid wool shirt

I said I wanted one more Arkansas Black

the bushel you’d brought me already

sliced into pies and chutneys

you coaxed one from the tree

cut it quickly with your knife

wiped the juice from my chin

I tasted cardamom

we breathe the same air

from my mouth to your lungs

as we steam and grow wild-eyed

your name comes louder

out of every pore

you are my first love and

his earnest tender makings

you are the man who

lured me to his marriage bed

you are the father of my children

their faces fade

their names pour out of me

50