Fall 2009, Volume 7

Poetry by Casey Holman

Lemon Tree

In the rain, your waxen green leaves turn to jade,
Varnished with a living coat.
Your blossoms delicate, white and purple,
Tart yellow fruits hanging between them, intermittent

You are no shade tree, long and low to the ground.

Out at night, under a light-washed sky
We climbed hollow makeshift jungles,
Jumped up and down to test bowed and aged wood
There were metal springs, vinyl tarps, bolts and screws and dust

All transgressions were easily forgotten,
As time moved around us quickly
We picked the novel fruits and pierced their hides,
Sucking clean the innards that ran free

Laughing, with the lights above us clicked on, movement waking them
Staring out, higher, into a river of gray concrete
The last adventure, no lightning bugs or glowing stars to light our way,
And when we stumbled back indoors, we were each our own island—
Then I knew that the sky above mine would have stars.


BIO:  A Long Beach native and recent high school graduate, Casey’s lifetime aspiration is to one day become a mermaid. Casey finds inspiration in zombies, current events, and TV shows about food. Her first reading was in the dining hall of her church when she was thirteen, and resulted in something of a panic attack. Subsequent attempts at public readings in locales from California to Tennessee have fared much better. Casey's work has been published in Lakewood High School’s Accolade magazine.