Angela A. BickhamWebsite
Years: 2000, 2002
Clarissa has since learned
that her grandmother cut her tomatoes wrong.
She’d never lay
the fruity vegetables on the table and slice them
so each piece would fall
like dominoes atop each other.
Many a time Clarissa watched
her grandmother’s aged left hand hold a tomato
like a soft ball pitcher
while her just as aged right hand slid a knife
toward her body –
each tomato slice laying motionless atop each other
as if still whole but
waiting to be spread around the edge of a pretty plate.
Clarissa never worried
about blood mixing with tomato juice –
blood was never an issue.
Her grandmother cut her tomatoes with a precision
Clarissa, back then, admired.
Watching her grandmother, Clarissa learned to aim
a knife toward her belly
and emerge with an inviting presentation.