From citrus nostalgia and maternal devotion to emotional distance, triumphant travel, and intimate melancholy, these four poems explore the multilayered dimensions of human experience. Each poet brings a singular voice: Nicole Freezer Rubens weaves familial pride and sensory delight into a meditation on legacy; Madlyn Epstein Steinhart confronts the unraveling of a once-familiar bond with raw clarity; Carol Ostrow celebrates the joy of adventure and the comfort of home; and Marjorie J. Levine draws us into a ritual of longing shaped by a single yellow rose. Together, these works speak to transformation—how we love, leave, return, and remember.

Fruit

The word has so many connotations.

I see the ripe round
pored oranges
with the thickest skin.
arranged in a precarious pyramid
at D’Agastino’s,
and then transferred to
the designated plastic bin
in my Sub Zero.
I smell the flesh of the zest
when it’s ripped open
and sprays,
just missing my right eye.

I feel pride
in the fruit of my labors,
from the mundane dusting
of the flat tops of contemporary frames,
to the impact of capturing
the realities of our dizzying world
using my words and my iPhone lens.

Mostly I take pride
in the fruit of my loins,
and what a funny way that is
to classify my 3 daughters
and their potential sway.
They started with pureed apples,
learned to peel a banana,
and then to select peaches
that are just the right ripeness
for them,
or learn the patience it takes
for their fruit to get precisely
where they need it to be.

~Nicole Freezer Rubens, author of “The Long Pause and the Short Breath”

Who Are You?

Used to know you
I don’t now
Not sure that I want too
Negative to the max
If its Depression
Talk to a professional
I take my leave temporarily
Don’t want to walk in tbe path you folllow now
Your used to bes got up and left
Doom and gloom
No Thanks

~Madlyn Epstein Steinhart, author “Put Your Boots on and Dance in the Rain,” and “Beautiful Heart”

I Feel Blessed!

I’m home now from a divine vacation,
Filled with memories and a welcome sensation,
Of having seen such different and varied sights,
That brought lasting thoughts of sheer delights,

Went to London for some new atmosphere,
Seeing theatre, ballet and opera there,
Walking for many miles, and never stopping,
Even spent time at Harrord’s for shopping,

So many grand Palaces attached to a story,
Along cobbled stoned streets with history and glory,
I even decided to take the underground train,
To avoid the usually expected rain,

Tasting the different British varieties of food,
Most definitely put me into a pleasant mood,
Even if their preparation was unfamiliar and different,
The consequences resulted in such pure merriment,

I completely fell under that city’s spell,
And think I could live there very well,
However, I’m very much an American,
Who’s feeling more privileged that I actually can,

Go anywhere that I choose with freedom of choice,
And I would shout that out with a strong, clear voice,
It’s so good to travel but let it be known,
There’s nothing better than just coming home.

God Bless America!!

~Carol Ostrow, author of “Poems from My Pandemic Pen,” and “Poetry in Motion with Much Emotion”

A WILTED YELLOW ROSE

On the table,
one wilted yellow rose
peeks up
as my lips kiss what I imagine to be
his shadow on the wall.
I part the sweet darkness
and enter a place of new solitude.
While my fantasies remain
elusive,
my memories are by turns
humorous and melancholy.
I am now
withered and stale like the
one wilted yellow rose.
I laugh.
Moments later… familiar ritualistic
sensations.
I know the next evening
the kiss
is doomed to be repeated,
in front of
one wilted yellow rose.

~Marjorie J. Levine, author “Road Trips,” and “Becoming Until”