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I rescue them at times from the back of the store— cellophaned oranges and apples packaged good-side-up. I imagine them as little brains thinking of the days when they were on the tree and full of promise. Mostly I leave the rusty beans, blotched pears to the gleaners, calling to mind my days as a gleaner at Dominick’s and Star when I approached with furtive hunch the scratched and bruised, bought them with my meager pay. What a bounty of salads and pies they made me who saved them from the heap. More than anything I hate waste and yet how much of my own life have I let go unused.
Copyright 2020 Lynn Levin. From The Minor Virtues (Ragged Sky, 2020)
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Lynn, what a small gem I found here, by accident? Lovely. ADAskenase
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