Fruits of Winter

by Jenna Rozelle

Sometimes I get sad

that I don’t live in a place with pomegranates

but then I smell the bay

ripe with oysters

ready to flood my mouth

with tang,

salted

the ham, hanging

heavier than apples

the onion

palm-fat, pearlescent

enough to make me cry

this ferment of my body

next to yours

at the table

wine-warm

away from wind

fruits of winter

take me home.


Jenna Rozelle is a forager, writer, homesteader, and wild foods educator from Maine. She enjoys a generalist approach to the New England outdoors and through her teaching and writing hopes to help people feel curious and comfortable on their home landscapes.

Subscribe to her Substack, at https://JennaRozelle.substack.com

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