Blood Orange Grove

I watched my grandmother tiptoe around her marriage
like she was navigating a field of landmines.
I thought she was brave.
I thought, here was a woman of strength,
Resilience,
empathy,
forgiveness.

I never realized I was watching her fade out.
One great white light,
a cloud of dust after a meteor falls,
and an empty crater left in her place.

I’m sitting up in that eerie half night.
I’m stumbling through the house
and my nightgown is catching on my knees.
I should be asleep.
I should be tucked, back against your chest,
arm under my head,
wrapped tight in my bed.

But instead I’m squeezing a blood orange into the carpet.
I’m leaving a trail of bright red spots on the pale fibers.
I want you to see the path that I walk.
and I’m planting orange seeds above all your landmines.

© Laura A. Lord, 2020


Thank you to MindLoveMisery for the prompt.

19 thoughts on “Blood Orange Grove

  1. wow! what a powerful post! such vivid imagery and description. thank you for sharing🤍

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    Like

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