by Sarah Ellen
On the stoop,
The sky is glazed with clouds and there are
Cockroaches scuttle by in anticipation
Of a feast.
Feet tucked up under dress,
Preparations are made for the first
Into the pulpy rind of an ugli fruit.
The name seems inappropriate for such a mysterious,
Textures and hues give way to creamy
Yellow symmetrical sections.
Bitter when chewed, the membranes contain
Tawny droplets of tangy
Extracted juice runs down off
Fingers and arms.
Enjoyably sticky, a memory
Once very small, seated
On the stoop
With a garbage bag bib,
I ate tomatoes