The Lemon and Her Mother Tree

by Megan Bendo

I often hear that I look just like you.
Our resemblance, I can’t perceive.
You are a comforting sanctuary,
a natural beauty, so different from me.
I am just small, yellow, and sour. There’s
no strength in my thick skin, unlike your
layers of wisdom. I’m nothing but a little
fruit, clinging to your mighty arm.

The wind knocks me off course and I fall
to the ground. I lost my hold on you.
It’s colder alone in the dirt. The world rips
apart my skin and body, crushing me to pulp,
leaving only my seed. I’m lost in this world
without you. Missing your wisdom. If I have
forever, someday I’ll grow to look like you.

MEGAN BENDO is a fiction and poetry writer living in Southwestern Ontario with her family and two cats. She currently attends the University of Waterloo in the Honours Arts and Business program. Megan’s love for reading and writing drove her to pursue a major in English, Creative and Professional Writing.