Poetry Sunday: “Scuppernong Grapes,” by Susan Williamson


[From the WVFC Poetry Archive. First PublishedAugust 11, 2019.]


Scuppernong Grapes

Ten thousand orbs of summer season, lit in opposition to
the cobalt sky. The arbor, pale white, blisters

within the solar. Grey wooden, finger-sized holes
bored by carpenter bees, sq. joints wired

by curling inexperienced vines, hand-sized leaves
clutch wrinkled fruit suspended over me.

Brickled bee-made combs leak spun-honey
drops rising massive on the floor of untamed

purple skins. The bees work once more, and once more,
have a tendency every cluster as the recent glare burns a memento

into me at age 9. Immediately’s glare shines on it,
mild wakes the arbor in decay, bees buzz honey

over grapes – nice hive. Tangle distills every viscous
dram – in harsh dazzle over grapes. Horrible how

mild seeks out sweetness, lashes each drop. Practically
boils the fruit we burst in our tender mouths.


First revealed here in storySouth and reprinted right here with permission of the writer.

Take heed to the writer studying her poem here.



Susan R. Williamson‘s poems have appeared in Beltway Poetry Quarterly, Crab Orchard Assessment, Paterson Literary Assessment, Poetry Day by day, Poetry East, Smartish Tempo, SoFloPoJo, storySouth, and The Virginia Quarterly Assessment, amongst others. She holds an MFA in Poetry from New England School and a BA in French Language and Literature from the College of Virginia. Her chapbook, Burning After Darkish, gained the Hannah Kahn Poetry Basis’s twenty fifth Anniversary Prize and is on the market for order here and here. Williamson lives in Boca Raton, Florida, the place she is Director of the Palm Seaside Poetry Pageant. Creator picture credit score: Deborah Quon.



Poet’s Be aware

This poem was born the kid of remark and reminiscence. It recollects for me the primary time I noticed grapes rising in cultivation, and the marvel I felt on the mild, the grapes and the arbor. I found them whereas visiting a brand new pal for the primary time. The traces are brimming with first instances, although that’s by no means talked about right here. Omitted is the way in which that asphalt can burn even by means of the soles of your sandals in a scorching Richmond, Virginia summer season as you stroll over to go to your new pal. Additionally omitted is the style of the scuppernong jam bought years later, and the way tasting it in Proust-like vogue recalled the reminiscence for me. Visiting this poem once more jogs my memory that the distillation of expertise, like style remembered or imaginative and prescient remembered, opens the world of reminiscence and reverence for the world and its wonders.


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