by Abigail Stevens
The backyard buzzes from the bees.
At such a sound I’m wary,
though they’re at work overhead
each year in February.
A musty smell floats in the air
from fuerte avocados.
Its blooms are small but numerous
drawing the bee to come close.
Beneath the haze of blooming flowers,
old leaves crinkle and brown.
When new leaves appear around the blooms,
old ones fall to the ground.
By Abigail Stevens
Abuelita serves Nopales.
They’re goey and slimy and green.
My friends think it madness
that I would eat cactus.
But they don’t know they were cleaned.