I lament my life as a pecan sliver – by Helen Freeman


a fragment of residue, fractured
at the bottom of a bowl, rubble
with the butt-ends of party chaw.

I know you’ll say that I was the one
who bemoaned the boxes, the labels,

but I’m not even honey-roasted
or maple-glazed. And where’s the sea salt,
the cinnamon, the granola?

I want to be whole again, in my shell
on a tree, eyed by Nubian Nightjars.



Helen Freeman published  Broken  post-accident in Oman. Since then she has completed several poetry courses and has poems in some online magazines. Brought up in Kenya, she now lives between Edinburgh and Riyadh.

4 thoughts on “I lament my life as a pecan sliver – by Helen Freeman

  1. I love the contrast in this short, pithy poem between two forms of a pecan nut; one a broken shard left at the bottom and the other whole in its natural setting. I like the way it opens with lower case. The ‘butt ends of party chaw’ is the worst insult you could ever give the mighty Pecan. ‘Eyed by Nubian Nightjars’ endues the nut with the majesty of which it is worthy. Where does the writer invest these word pictures from? The effect is one of lament, longing for a form and identity I once was.


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