From the Market

The woman carries the cantaloupe in her palm,
Protruding like a proud pregnancy.
Her fingers turn up, become a bowl;
Each foot dances to ripeness.

Was the cantaloupe singing
As she made her way to home and mate?
Would she dare to eat
The golden flesh when she woke
With cravings in the night?

[Poem by Virginia McKinnon Mann. Dated "July, August, September 1997". Photo by Kabsik Park.]

Holding the Wire

Transmogrified,

She cried,

"I am annealed!"

The juice that sealed

The hand that pealed

Was not revealed,

Instead congealed.

The lightening bug the soul became

It's work the dark of night to tame.

[Written by Virginia McKinnon Mann in September, 1997. Note: there are two typos in the last stanza that I left uncorrected.

This poem seems appropriate to post while 2014 is still new. Lots of people have been talking about new year's resolutions, and although I don't think "Holding the Wire" is about that kind of self-transformation, my mind made the connection.]