Fruit by Eli Slover

In a handbasket, 

in an old gray truck, 

a line of dust the only 

proof it leaves behind,

out in the beige desert

miles from the city,

and more than that,

civilization sunning itself.

Defiant blue above.

Summer green leaves

on the stems of berries,

and more than that, 

blood oranges speckled

in the hot chocolate shade, 

cherries in weaved baskets.

A Pendleton blanket 

swaying in the wind.

A mother teaching her

young child about fruit

and more than that.

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Eli Slover is a poet and student at university. His work in poetry has appeared in The Albion Review, Page & Spine, Yes Poetry, and elsewhere. He serves as an assistant poetry editor for Moon City Review.