Meditation on a Grapefruit
by Craig Arnold

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To wake when all is possible
before the agitations of the day
have gripped you
                	To come to the kitchen
and peel a little basketball
for breakfast
               To tear the husk
like cotton padding    	a cloud of oil
misting out of its pinprick pores
clean and sharp as pepper
                         	     To ease
each pale pink section out of its case
so carefully   	  without breaking
a single pearly cell
                	 To slide each piece
into a cold blue china bowl
the juice pooling        until the whole
fruit is divided from its skin
and only then to eat
                  	so sweet
                        	     a discipline
precisely pointless     a devout
involvement of the hands and senses
a pause            a little emptiness
 
each year harder to live within
each year harder to live without

"Meditation on a Grapefruit," by Craig Arnold. Used by permission of the estate of Craig Arnold.