Every outing was an education. For one of our first picnics, you brought a basket with fresh raspberries and blackberries. Somehow the lunch took a turn after you saved me from sliding down the riverbank. Some fruit was pressed between us. You held some fruit fragments in your palm and said, What are these called? Your fingers crushed more berries and you drew a raspberry Valentine heart over my heart and whispered, Drupelets. Then we pressed together and your skin was printed with the same heart. You made dots of purple juice and squiggles of red juice, the tiny pieces of fruit everywhere. As we cleaned each other, we practiced saying the new word: drupelets,drupelets.
About the author: Leonard Orr teaches literature and creative writing at Washington State University Vancouver. His poetry has appeared in many journals including Poetry International, Rattle, Black Warrior Review, Poetry East, Rosebud, and Natural Bridge. He has recently published two collections, Why We Have Evening (2010) and Timing Is Everything (2012), both from Cherry Grove/WordTech. His new collection, A Floating Woman, will be published in 2015.