Of Salt & Oranges

Of Salt & Oranges

A Poem by Anna von Österreich

Something long dead and
aged, drowned in barreled wine;
floated up to drooping ceiling tiles
like an orange peel bobbing at
the underside of some lonely pier-
salt and citrus linger on the air to 
pool between the cracks and 
drift off into the pulling tides. 

Through the night sometime
I could come back and find it still
bobbing there, cold and reluctant;
not wanting to let go of the surface-
even though its time has passed;
the tree that bore it has abandoned
every fruit it has ever made but 
the orange peel holds out for
a little longer, just in case.

The phantom of God is lost in 
the ceiling tiles of a rickety building
that sits by an old dock somewhere;
trapped in the dark chambers of 
attic passages that haven't been 
seen by human eyes in ages of oaks-
I don't claim to know their dealings
but I've become quite familiar with
the taste of brine and rot.

© 2021 Anna von Österreich


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I didn't find easy access to this poem. I liked it for the sound and for the dready feeling it conjured. After several readings I came to feel something about passing and change - a tidal feeling the way blood pulses until it doesn't.

Thank you for sharing.

Posted 2 Months Ago



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Added on January 30, 2021
Last Updated on January 30, 2021
Tags: salt, oranges, sea, dock, liminal spaces