Thief

by Laura Ann Reed

            
Early spring, I slip through
           a gap in the privet hedge.

The neighbor’s apple tree
           quivers with white frills of silk.

My mother won’t hold me
           in her gaze the way I stand here

gaping at this tree. Won’t rock me
           like I’m cradled in rain-soaked

winter limbs, sheltered in July
           when the thinnest membrane

lies between the bark
           and my sun-dark skin.

In fall, that profusion
           of small, hard fruit—

tart, with bitter
           seeds. Yet, I eat

and eat—pretending
           they hold sweetness.


* * * * *

"Thief" was first published in ONE ART: a journal of poetry and is part of Laura Ann Reed's chapbook Shadows Thrown (Sungold Editions, February 2023).

Laura Ann Reed, a San Francisco Bay Area native, taught modern dance and ballet at the University of California, Berkeley before working as a leadership development trainer at the San Francisco headquarters of the United States Environmental Protection Agency. Her work has appeared in numerous journals and anthologies in the United States, Canada and Britain. She is the author of the chapbook, Shadows Thrown (2023). Laura and her husband live in the Pacific Northwest.