Yonges Island

by Jane Flint

The camps are full of
pick-up campers
and those who come to pick.
Brand new packing shed
next door:
old tomato crates
stacked against the fence,
long green machine
still squeaky-clean.
The women wash
the clothes
the food
the children.

The men play dice
against the wall,
years of flies
and the stench
of overripe tomatoes
bruising, oozing
in the stifling heat,
and years
of hard green fruit
that died of thirst
still clinging to
the scrawny stem
or burst like sores
with rain
that came too late.


Category: Featured, Poetry, SNHU Creative Writing, SNHU online creative writing