Fruits of Winter

by Jenna Rozelle

Sometimes I get sad

that I don’t live in a place with pomegranates

but then I smell the bay

ripe with oysters

ready to flood my mouth

with tang,

salted

the ham, hanging

heavier than apples

the onion

palm-fat, pearlescent

enough to make me cry

this ferment of my body

next to yours

at the table

wine-warm

away from wind

fruits of winter

take me home.

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Jenna Rozelle is a forager, writer, homesteader, and wild foods educator from Maine. She enjoys a generalist approach to the New England outdoors and through her teaching and writing hopes to help people feel curious and comfortable on their home landscapes.

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