Writer’s Digest 94th Annual Competition Winning Non-Rhyming Poem: “Charring Lemons”
Congratulations to Alison Luterman, grand-prize winner of the 94th Annual Writer’s Digest Writing Competition. Here’s her winning non-rhyming poem, “Charring Lemons.”
Congratulations to Alison Luterman, grand-prize winner of the 94th Annual Writer's Digest Writing Competition.
Alison Luterman’s five books of poetry are The Largest Possible Life, See How We Almost Fly, Desire Zoo, In the Time of Great Fires, and Hard Listening. She also writes plays, song lyrics, and personal essays. She has taught at New College, The Writing Salon, Catamaran, Esalen, and Omega Institutes, and writing workshops around the country, as well as working as a California poet in the schools for many years.
Here's her winning non-rhyming poem, "Charring Lemons."
Charring Lemons
by Alison Luterman
February, and those fat yellow
knobby-nippled grenades
are dropping from everyone's backyard tree,
to be kicked around like little hockey pucks,
or left to rot in tall grass.
One neighbor fills a cardboard box
with precious Meyers and sets it,
as an offering, on the sidewalk.
Another leaves a bag on my doorstep--
Take, take, m'ija, my tree is bursting!
And I remember walking
in the Berkeley hills decades ago
with my first husband who was not yet
my husband, gaping at all the front lawns.
Look, a lemon tree! Another one!
Fresh out of Boston, naive as a new puppy.
Everything in this golden state
was a wonder to me, not least
the boy-man on my arm
with his black curls and high-wire heart.
What did I know then of fire and flood,
mudslides or earthquakes?
Oh, to be twenty-five and free
from even the thought of disaster,
to be so simply dazzled by a tree
heavy with fruit in the heart of winter!
That was our first year together,
when everything was still possible.
Before the marriage collapsed
under our feet like a beautiful building
not built to code. Well now he's dead
and I'm old, and standing over a hot skillet,
charring lemons—a trick I learned
on the Internet—blackening them just enough
to bring out the hidden sugars.
Hold anything over the fire
for a few minutes or a lifetime
and it turns into smoke.
