Wild Cherry Near the Garden

Outside the garden, the cardinal
calls from the cherry,
which, at this time of summer, is heavy
with fruit in its leaves’ fine teeth,
clusters of fruit the woman takes before they fall.
The cardinal
repeats its call, wild
cherry, black cherry, wild

outside the perimeter of the garden,
where the man set a goddess
at the right angle
and the head of a god on a stone pillar,
the focal point for the maze he trimmed
in his garden. The goddess is missing
an arm
in neoclassical tradition. The cardinal’s call

enters the garden like a god walking
in the cool of the summer morning, the angle
of his crown, of his mouth,
not right but as close as he can manage.
The woman won’t take the fruit to eat immediately.
She knows it’s bitter.
She will boil the stone fruit with sugar
until it’s sweet.

Angie Macri is the author of Sunset Cue (Bordighera), winner of the Lauria/Frasca Poetry Prize, and Underwater Panther (Southeast Missouri State University), winner of the Cowles Poetry Book Prize. An Arkansas Arts Council fellow, she lives in Hot Springs and teaches at Hendrix College.

Published April 15 2024