“for a languid thirsty human (during a pandemic)” by Elli Samuels


Buying baby eggplants and

petite strawberries

at a farmers’ market stall,

I am beckoned to slide

my paper dollars

through the hole

in a homemade wooden box.

She delivers my change

with a mask-muffled thanks,

hand to hand,

the odd beauty

of her dirt stained

fingers and nails

taking me down,

to my knees in my head.

Baffling as salvation,

and bloody natural

as a tiger

paw-deep in meat.


Elli Samuels is a poet living in the Pacific Northwest. She is a cookbook author (2014), a yogi, a runner, and is never without passion for a stellar cup of coffee.