~ Delta Poetry Review ~

Daniel Gage

Taste of Lime

I can’t believe I am so far from the south,

how the trade routes across the Mediterranean

are specters of thinly sliced skin stuck between

my teeth

This freshness fusing in my fingers is from the

trees of tomorrow, trees that have yet to rise

from the womb of the world

I look at the crushed rind on the table

the seeds treading in the pools of juice

reflecting my mind’s eye—green

I lick my lips

smile when I feel the sting

how sad that it’s fading

But, if I were to smell my palms right now

if I were to never wash them

I could teleport back to those brief moments

in which I cherished the sourness of life and

held my breath while it lit my tongue on fire

Daniel Gage is a librarian and writer living in Boston, Massachusetts. Daniel has always loved translating his brief musings on simple life and the great adventure of travel into larger stories through poetry. He has previously published work in the Watershed Journal and Big Windows Review.