Historical Accuracy
Amalfi, 1989

The way she hummed made me want
to share sweat, defy gravity
on the edge of steep cliffs.

We bought a crate of the world's largest
lemons. Bigger than grapefruit
and more yellow than a neon moon.

The road above the Mediterranean
wobbled like a hurried signature
impossible to trace. All color was primary.

Sea and sky blue. We thought we spotted
a famous football player on the beach. But
it was better to leave him be and not be

certain. After all, no one would believe
the lemons in our hands. Juice and sugar.
We puffed ourselves up, inflated

with fluids. We climbed above
the tiny city to stare down at our tiny car.
How did we ever fit into that thing?

The world was a juicy lemon.
The football star was tanned
and smiling. Two people were killed

in a crash on that day on the road,
tumbling down, disappearing into the sea.
No mistranslating the black and white photo.

If I could hold a crate of those lemons
in my arms every day of my life, then?
We had come from Pompeii

where the proud rubble mocked our soft skin
and tour guides winked as if they knew
some small thing we didn't.

The lemons lasted one fine day.
We are still together. The famous
football player is divorced and remarried

to another beautiful woman. I saw
one lemon fall from one tree, and nothing else.
The imagination enlarges and enhances,

yeah, I know. We were young,
and the world was round.

Copyright © 2005 Jim Daniels All rights reserved
from The MacGuffin
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission