Gerald is selling cantaloupes to pay for his wife’s funeral.
People press their thumbs firmly against the waxy rind

that looks like the skin from her dead body-
grey blood vessels etched on intricately by nature.

A customer smells the top of one and waits for a fragrance,
closes his eyes to imagine the sweet flesh,
then asks the old man how fresh the fruit is;
Gerald mumbles an answer
then thinks about a wake for her,
making a hard fist around some coins.

Gerald and Adriana used to eat fruit together
every night after dinner;
She would cut up pieces to share with him,
never speaking while he tasted them,
just smiling and listening to the sound
as he inhaled and exhaled after every mouthful.