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.
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