Ode to the First Peach

Only one insect has feasted here—


a clear stub of resin


plugs the scar. And the hollow


where the stem was severed


shines with juice.


The fur still silvered


like a caul. Even


in the next minute,


the hairs will darken,


turn more golden in my palm.


Heavier, this flesh,


than you would imagine,


like the sudden


weight of a newborn.


Oh what a marriage


of citron and blush!


It could be a planet


reflected through a hall


of mirrors. Or


what a swan becomes


when a fairy shoots it


from the sky at dawn.


At the beginning of the world,


when the first dense pith


was ravished and the stars


were not yet lustrous


coins fallen from the


pockets of night,


who could have dreamed


this would be curried


from the chaos?


Scent of morning and sugar,


bruise and hunger.


Silent, swollen, clefted life,


remnant always remaking itself


out of that first flaming ripeness.

ELLEN BASS

Chancellor Emerita of the Academy of American Poets, is the author of Indigo (Copper Canyon, 2020) and several acclaimed poetry collections, including Like a Beggar and Mules of Love, which won the Lambda Literary Award. She co-edited No More Masks! (1973), the first major anthology of women’s poetry. Her work has appeared in The New Yorker, The Atlantic, and numerous literary journals. A recipient of fellowships from the Guggenheim Foundation and NEA, she has won multiple awards, including four Pushcart Prizes. Bass also authored influential nonfiction books on trauma and healing, including The Courage to Heal, and leads poetry workshops in prisons. She teaches in Pacific University’s low-residency MFA program.

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