lemon

I can’t stop thinking about the tangerines
Mom
and then the other citrus fruits come to mind, too
like lemons
the wedge you’d always ask for in water
--you always asked for the wedge
to brighten and heighten the water
the water was water but better--
you knew that
beautiful big and bright lemon
ripe
yellow pop against green leaves brown branches
you’d grasp and twist and hold with two hands
(did you think you were holding a golden ball?
a rare jewel? a canary cupped in your hands?)
carrying inside looking down at it 
marveling, inhaling sweet lemon life
and seeing your feet below it one in front of the other
and two hands would place it on the cutting board
and slice then squeeze and drop
into that tall glass of water

water, still, but better

I think you thought I was the lemon to your life
but
Mom
you’re gone now what does it matter
I’m bitter and I’m me, yes, but not better

me, still, but bitter.