As a child, mother fed me sugar lemon snaps

by Kristy Snedden

My teeth clenched shut.

Trees of hard polished lemons

potted in the front room.

Yellow fruits sprouted like pale rocks coaxed by her slick green thumb.

Spring days I cruised my bike to the tree I climbed. Sometimes my brother

came too. Snuck into the bird’s nest, inhaled feather crow dust

huffed out powdered sugar, hard spit the sour aftertaste.

We took monopoly pieces to the tree.

I pulled two out and pronged my hand, buried them in my socks.

The comfort of sharp-pained feet.

Leftover pieces warmed my pocket and the nest like witch’s talismans.

I was unafraid. The nest.

Wheels of tenderness on our bikes.

Me, the shoe, my brother, the silver dog. The shoe and the dog.

Piles of sugar lemon snaps stale on the marble counter.

BIO: Kristy Snedden (she/her) is a trauma psychotherapist, poet, and artist whose work is widely published nationally and internationally, most recently in storySouth, and Contemporary Verse 2. Her poetry has been nominated for Best of the Net and a Pushcart Prize. She is the founding editor of Bone to Brain: The International Journal of Poetry, Prose, Art, and Healing. Her debut collection, That Broken Tooth, That Blue Tattoo, is forthcoming from Indolent Books in 2026. She writes poetry and creates art because it is the most fun she has ever had in her life. www.kristysnedden.com Instagram: kristy_snedden_poetry Facebook: Kristy Snedden-Poetry.