Clementine
by Elodie Miller, Strathcona Girls Grammar School
Years 11 – 12 Written Poetry Finalist
‘Time has been unkind to the clementine,’ say the fruit flies, hovering above the fruit bowl with judgement.
Once youthful and bright, her signature perfume lingered in the air
Bringing comfort, a smile, a deep inhale
So sweet was the clementine
But now her golden skin has turned dull and soft
As dark spots begin to appear
Her scent, once subtle and fresh, becoming saccharine
And so the fruit flies gather, speaking in hushed tones and flitting just out of sight
‘So fleeting was her prime,’ they whisper,
‘A fragrant clementine, now overripe.’
But the flies never saw her as a bud, hope and potential encased in young, pale leaves
Or a flower, delicate white petals and the slightest scent like a kiss blown on the breeze
Even in her eleventh hour, as mould envelops her in its mossy embrace, Clementine remembers the green from whence she came
The green to which she will return, and grow again
So perhaps time was not unkind to dear Clementine, for she lived in a world of sugar and sun
Saw beauty, drank the sweet nectar of love and was loved in return
And as she decays, she will feed new life
Is that not eternity?
How did writing this poem make you feel?
Writing this poem reminded me of my great grandmother Flora, as I was lucky enough to know her when I was younger. When we visited her, the place always smelt very sweet the way the nursing homes do, a sort of comforting warm sweetness. I was drawing on those memories when I wrote the description of the fruit as a parallel to a woman in her old age. Whilst the poem has deeply personal connections, I also wanted to draw on a wider societal message about the way women are valued solely for their looks, and are considered ‘past their prime’ as they age. The fruit flies represent the media and their obsession with how women look over their accomplishments, relationships or values. At my great grandmother’s memorial there were photos of her all throughout her life (like a bud, a flower). I was struck by how similar we looked at the same age, and realised I’ll likely look a lot like her when I’m older as well. It made me think about how parts of her live on in my grandmother, my dad, my sister and I, and will continue to live on through our children and grandchildren after we’re gone too. I especially remember this through the way Flora had a citrus tree outside her room, and some of my favourite memories with my grandmother (her daughter) were eating the kumquats from her garden on spring afternoons after school. She gave my sister an orange tree for her birthday one year, and the tradition continues. As the last line of the poem states, ‘is that not eternity?’
Which single line in your poem are you the absolute proudest of?
I’m proudest of the line ‘Clementine remembers the green from whence she came / The green to which she will return, and grow again’. This is the first time in the poem where ‘Clementine’ has a capital C, referring to the feminine name rather than the fruit. I did this deliberately to show the shift from the perspective of the fruit flies (symbolic of the media) to an omniscient speaker, switching the focus from Clementine’s physical ‘dark spots’ to her metaphorical ‘eternity’. The poem decenters the conventional beauty (that the fruit flies consider a woman’s ‘prime’) to instead highlight the importance of memories, wisdom and lived experiences of older women, and their role in the cycle of life and death.
Why do you think people write poetry?
It’s a form of love, really – It’s very vulnerable, but when people understand my writing they get a deeper understanding of me. Writing poetry is an escape, and writing the words that remind you of the image in your head is like saving a daydream. I love reading back my old poems and remembering exactly how I felt when I wrote it and what I was imagining.