of Queen Elizabeth I
who lifted her spirits
by its smell,
and a boy tipping
one after another into
the pounder, of cider,
of calvados,
of Pliny who told
about those who ate naught
and lived by
this smell alone. Suppose
from a filigree of
raggedy rows,
from windfalls pillowed
beneath
laden branches,
one--
perfect in the palm
round, firm
smelling of morning,
of crispin, ginger gold,
jonathan, winesap from
the Shenandoah Valley,
of gravenstein,
paula red and ruby jon,
of peelings yellow, green, red
and nearly black,
of firm white flesh
sweet and tart.
Crunch.

El-u-sive

Gelatinous worm,
boneless,
all open and hollow, but
now coming up opaque
in the middle--
catch it as it limps by
light-heavy, da-dum
sleepy mms with
soft lips, but now
the tongue,
on its own, curls
an el that slides
from tongue tip
to teeth, becomes
sibilant sighing
feathery wisps
oh
what is that word
this poem needs?

Sketches From Outside Tables

I
toMAte moz'RELli caPREsi
three fat syllables pool
into the balsamic vinegar,
essence of basil and tomato
lifts from the plate
into an evening air still liquid
with the waiter's words.

II

A few old boys not needing to say much
quaff their usual Peronis in glasses
tall and slim as maidens.
Their table is the one
at the back edge, always will be,
and life is this--a good familiar
creature.

III

She turns her head and blows one nervous
plume of gray smoke straight up,
unseen above the heads of the others,
and under her pink T-shirt,
not her perfect breasts peaking
but her lungs dark as the blackened
bones caging them.

IV

Six friends,
fat chianti bowls lifted
by fragile stems, a tribute,
a robust salute
to each other, to love,
to the night!
A swarm of Vespas pass,
buzzing loud and angry.
No one notices.

V

Laughter's sudden swell
breaks over the diners
covering them, they raise their voices
and float above the chatter, the clatter,
the plumes, the spumes, and
drift off into a night air warmed by
jasmine blooms and
old wine.

Wanda McCollar is an English teacher who directs a worldwide online writing workshop for high school students enrolled in the US Department of Defense school system known as DoDDS. Her poems have been published in Chile Verde, and the collected works of poets, Rites of Spring, and Radio, Radio! She lives in Germany and spends what time she can writing, and exploring Europe with her camera. She is currently working on her second novel.  

 Wanda

 McCollar