Poems by Uncle Will Cleek, Todd Davis, David Feela, Paul Hunter, Bob Artley and Chloe Molner

To be literate and educated is never enough. The watermelons I loved were suddenly new. I rushed toward the pallet at the front of the store where they were confined in bins, waiting to be handled, to be chosen. The seedy and the seedless. The mealy and the meaty. One of them – just one – would be perfect, and waiting for me.

When I first looked up and noticed the clusters of purplish red berries, I thought, what a magical place, where fruit grows like this by the side of the road so anyone can stop and fill a bucket with sweetness. Then I popped a couple berries in my mouth and dropped my bucket, spitting a wad of pulpy pits at the dirt: my first taste of chokecherries.