An Offering

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I am the woman at the water’s edge,

offering you oranges for the peeling,

a knife glistening in the sun.

This is the scent and taste

of my skin: citron and sweet.

Touch me and your life will unfold

before you, easily as this skirt

billows then sinks,

lapping against my legs, my toes

filtering through the river’s silt.

Following the current out to sea,

I am the kind of woman

who will come back to haunt

your dreams, move through your

humid nights the way honey

swirls through a cup of hot tea.

As April is National Poetry Month, all this week we are featuring a poem a

day in addition to our regular content. For more features, see


©2000 Shara McCallum and Nerve Publishing