The Expiration Date

Carly Sachs

 sounds so final. Ramona wonders
how long until something is really over.
It’s no wonder it’s so difficult
for her to maintain a relationship
when everything she loves is leaving her.
 
The milk will go, then the eggs, then the
mixed spring blend with herbs.
The yogurt will talk about the beginning
when he had so much to give,
didn’t you feel that too, he’ll coo
as he curdles. The bright clear light
of the refrigerator door shows her the world
as it is: hungry and temporary.
 
Summer salads waiting for the vinaigrette
of desire, the pinot grigio, chilled
and ready. She wants to see them all,
the tangerines and grapes, the seedless cucumbers
and asparagus spears lined up and waiting.
 
If only there were recipes enough, or if her belly
were the world inside a snow globe,
but somehow she can’t shake the feeling
that the produce is fleeting. The apples will spot,
the lemons will sour, and the spinach will turn
to mush. But like a one armed boomerang,
 
they will all come back come grocery day,
the bouquet of promise, a fresh beginning,
an affair to remember.

Carly Sachs is a poet and yogini. She is the author of the steam sequence (Washington Writers' Publishing House, 2006), Yama/Niyama, a chapbook of yoga poems, and the editor of the why and later (Deep Cleveland Press, 2007), an anthology of poems women have written about rape and sexual assault.


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