I saw a woman peeling an orange at a traffic light and thought of you. 
She had the orange on top of the steering wheel,
a small, tight little thing, but she worked at it. 
Her mouth was open, and she bent forward with her eyes on the light. 
I could see the juice on her chin and that’s what made me think of you.
Her little breakfast. 
She looked like a bird, agitated.
Pecking at the peel.


Image by Ulrike Leone from Pixabay

Lauren Holgate

Lauren Holgate is a graduate of the Mountainview Low-Residency MFA program at Southern New Hampshire University, and has recently begun submitting her work in hopes of publication. She currently lives on the outskirts of Baltimore, and, among other things, writes about displacement, depression, and the many definitions of home.