SUPPLY CHAIN > POETRY

Supply Chain, Pandemic Economy

By Merryn Rutledge

A bright clementine I bought this morning spills
blossom-scented juice—and a cache of questions.
Who got up at dawn in rising heat
and rode a crowded bus to pick the long rows of trees?
Who ferried tractor loads to the packing plant
where what señors and señoras stood for hours
culling fruit and heaving crates onto giant pallets?
What truckers fought to stay awake
to bring the harvest east to us, the winter-weary?
In the grocery store this morning, the man building
perfect pyramids of clementines was also singing.
He looked my way and, switching to English, asked,
Miss, what can I help you find? He smiled.
I have everything, I might have said—the fruit of many.

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