Today I have a bonus post. It’s summer and my nostalgia is running high, even though (because) the world still feels upside down. It has been a tough few months for me personally, and a heartbreaking week for many of us. I am trying to cultivate the seeds I’ve been given to bring about something that I can call beautiful.

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Today I was chopping a watermelon

And unlike last time

I was using a knife that made the fruit

Feel like soft butter

And slid through the rind with a satisfying snap.

The sweet smell of the juice

Running over the board

Reminded me how nervous I had been

Using the wrong tool for the job

Hoping to chunk the melon on that plastic table

without the blade slipping into the flesh of my palm.

I didn’t want him to have to find a bandage for me again

Like the time I sliced open my finger

And he called to me from the bathroom door

That he had found the Band-aids.

Today I trimmed the rind from the red flesh,

Thinking about my mom and how she

Chopped everything with a furious speed when I was kid

And in my amazement I asked how she did it.

It takes a lot of practice she told me.

Today I nearly laughed, thinking how I still haven’t mastered it

As I cut slowly so the knife didn’t slip.

I don’t need another injury

To add to the long list of wounds I’m healing.

I took the inedible greenery to the composter

And as I dumped the pieces into the loamy-smelling bin

I wondered how long it would be before the rot

Turned them into fresh earth, rich for growing.

I peeled a stray sliver of fruit from the tray

Placed it on my tongue, savoring its perfectly sweet sharpness

Praying that the rot inside me

Will transform me into fresh, rich earth too

So I can grow the fruit that needs to bloom.