Foraging by Frank C. Modica

Grandpa knew the best places
to gather bundles of dandelion leaves
to feed his family.
He bypassed easier pickings
closer to home, trash-polluted plants
in crowded neighborhoods for
green fields in distant cemeteries
at the ends of streetcar lines.

Before coming to America
he ate the wild dandelions in Sicily—
often his only meals,
so he rejoiced to see the bountiful
fields in America, free for the taking.
He harvested them young,
once yellow blossoms opened,
the leaves tasted sharp and pungent.

Some years jobs were scarce,
the bosses tight-fisted.
He’d work long hours
for low pay; empty pockets
for streetcar fares.
When he could finally forage,
he closed his eyes to the yellow
blossoms emerging in overgrown yards,
along curbs, in empty city lots—

After the long ride to the cemetery,
a bitter harvest.



Frank C. Modica is a retired teacher. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Sheila-Na-Gig, Red Eft Review, and Willawaw Journal. Frank's first chapbook, What We Harvest, nominated for an Eric Hoffer book award, was published in the fall of 2021 by Kelsay Books.