Every Green Thing I Have Given by Sarah Bloom


Eat freely of these
when the orchards are
heavy with seckels.
Each time the bitter
comes to sting
the tips of fingers, you
will make a holy day,
eat cakes baked over fire,
but some fruit gather
to crush and this
is the fruit of the vine.
Beware the serpent
in the wine. He crouches.
The birds know him.
They are one bird
bursting into sound,
a garrison around
the fur-lined nest.
The heart is difficult
to understand.
It thinks it sees. Eat freely
of these. Each time
it winters, eat of every
florid pear. Be fat,
give thanks. Beware.


Sarah Bloom is an Associate Professor of English at the University of Arkansas Monticello, where she teaches composition, literature, and creative writing. She joined the faculty of UAM in 2005. Her poems have recently appeared in (or have been accepted for publication in) Main Street Rag Literary Magazine, Mud Street Review, Faultline: A Journal of Arts and Letters, and The Columbia College Literary Review.