Oranges, by Roisin Kelly
- Wonderful stanza breaks: "but hold my hands above // a pile of oranges / as if to warm my skin / before a fire."
- "scrape some rind off // with my fingernail / so that a citrus scent / will linger there all day."
- About halfway through the poem she transitions from first person pronouns (I) to second person pronouns (you) to marvelous effect.
- "the sun / you swelled under / the tree you grew from." is beautiful.
- "A drift of white blossoms / from the orange tree / will settle in my hair / and I'll know." What a distinct image! Almost transcendent.
- In the final lines of the poem the image that will stick with me for the rest of my life is revealed: "Maybe then I'll climb / the hill, look down / on the town we live in / with sunlight on my face // and a miniature sun / burning a hole in my pocket." This image is why you read poetry. What a perfectly gorgeous image.