Pluming

by Dolo Diaz

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Pluming

After dinner, while it’s still
light out,
I do my rounds, eating the tiny
Santa Rosa plums that grow
by the Caltrain tracks.

Still green, crunchy
painfully tart.
But a few have a shy blush.
I pluck those preferentially.

I’m sure there’s a scientific explanation
that I refuse to look up.

Invariably, they have
a tiny dent –
a bird, perhaps.

I tell myself:
​
you poor thing,
just like me,
you had to ripen fast.

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Dolo Diaz is a scientist / poet with roots in Spain, currently residing in California. Her work has appeared in ONE ART, The Summerset Review, Centaur, The Indianapolis Review, Third Wednesday, among others. 

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