.

Salmon Skin

_Laid temptingly
Upon a china dish,
_Poached perfectly,
A long, pink flank of fish.

_Its scents amaze.
Fork poised to dig right in,
_I stop and gaze,
Fixated on its skin:

_Smooth gradient
From silver-white to black
_Of radiant
Small mirrors shining back

_The candles’ light,
Mosaic tiles arrayed
_From dark to bright;
Sleek, dazzling texture made—

_Deft work!—by nature,
Art crafted to adorn
_One nameless creature
Of billions water-borne

_And so arrayed.
It hid its charms, submerged.
_Trapped, killed, fileted,
It flaunts them now emerged,

_Destined for me
And my admiring sight—
_But fleetingly,
To vanish with each bite!

.

.

Bananas

Youth languished in the bunch,
Hard, immature, and green;
Unyielding to the touch
And tasting far too keen.

Adulthood shines bright yellow;
Now yields, smooth, soft to chew,
Now tastes sweet, rich, and mellow,
Acceptable to you—

Pleasing enough to buy;
To peel, cut, smash, and slice;
To fill your whip-topped pie,
Or swathe in fire or ice.

Survivors languish, brown,
Their flesh a formless mash,
Their flavor broken down,
Fit only for the trash.

.

.

Adam Sedia (b. 1984) lives in his native Northwest Indiana and practices law as a civil and appellate litigator. He has published four books of poetry and his poems, essays, and fiction have appeared in various literary journals. He is also a composer, and his musical works may be heard on his YouTube channel.

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19 Responses

  1. Roy Eugene Peterson

    Delightful salmon skin image in your poem made me hungry. The progression of the banana from inedible youth, through mellow yellow adulthood to “flesh broken down” seems to imply the cycle of all life including ours. Well-conceived.

    Reply
  2. Joseph S. Salemi

    “Salmon Skin” is a perfect still life in words. It’s actually about four separate but interdependent arts: nature’s production of the physical beauty of the fish, the trapping and killing of the fish, the culinary preparation of the fish, and the presentation of the fish at table.

    “Bananas” brings back memories. My father ran a produce store, and we had to keep in our heads the different ripening schedules of all the various fruits and vegetables. Bananas were the toughest to manage. When they were flawless yellow with green tips, they were perfect. But when they started to get brown speckles on the skin, you had to hope to sell them quickly. Mild refrigeration helped a little, but too much refrigeration also spoiled them.

    Back in those days, bananas came direct from Central America in cardboard boxes filled with straw. Occasionally in the box there was a tarantula.

    Reply
    • Adam Sedia

      Thank you for the comment. You make a very astute and subtle observation about “Salmon Skin.” I loved hearing the grocer’s experience with bananas. In the supermarket you see an array from deep green to brown-speckled, and I’ve often wondered about their shelf life and how it’s managed. I’ve heard stories even today about shoppers finding large spiders in their bananas.

      Reply
  3. Cynthia L Erlandson

    I love these short, dense lines of pithy description. The “mirrors” of the salmon skin, reflecting candlelight, is such an exquisite image of something I had not noticed before; in fact I hadn’t seen any beauty in salmon skin before. I also don’t often think of bananas being “swathed in fire or ice”, though I’ve seen flaming bananas (I think they were called “bananas foster”?) Anyway, that is a beautiful line.
    I’ve found that brown bananas are still good for one thing — making banana bread.

    Reply
    • Adam Sedia

      Thank you! Yes, Bananas Foster is the flaming dessert (and a classic New Orleans dish). It’s funny you mention banana bread; Evan made the same comment to me when I submitted the poem. I usually use overripe bananas to make smoothies.

      Reply
  4. Paul A. Freeman

    Some wonderfully vivid flashes here – ‘radiant / Small mirrors shining back’ is probably my favourite. The sudden intrusion of the author in the final stanza rounds the poem off nicely.

    Would you believe, in Medieval times, salmon was such an abundant food, it was considered only fit for peasants!

    As a daily banana consumer, I appreciate your banana poem. Out here, when they blacken, they end up as banana bread!

    Thanks for the reads, Adam.

    Reply
    • Adam Sedia

      Thank you! Those Medieval peasants were doubtless strong and healthy, not to mention deliciously fed.

      Reply
  5. Gigi Ryan

    I admire the self-control to have recognized all of the beauty before partaking! I am partial to salmon and will pay better attention to the skin next time.

    Even a banana is a parable. I love it.

    Food can be wonderfully complex if we allow it. Thanks for the reminder of this.
    Gigi

    Reply
    • Adam Sedia

      Thank you! That’s what poetry is; noticing what you perceive and finding meaning in it. Self-control is necessary for that process.

      Reply
  6. jd

    Enjoyed both, Adam, the first for its exquisite painting and the second because I also like bananas. Once too ripe to eat in hand, if they are not too far gone they are still good mashed.

    Reply
  7. Janice Canerdy

    Adam, I enjoyed your thought-provoking poems, in which I saw more than salmon and bananas~~as was your intention, I think. I found the last stanza of the first poem witty and amusing~~admiring the food before devouring it with
    glee.

    Reply
  8. Margaret Coats

    Delectable poems, Adam. “Salmon Skin” is practically cinematic, with light, color, setting, anticipation, and action all contributing to enjoyment. Both your subjects (salmon and bananas) are presently among the most popular of foods; you show how contemplative consideration can elevate these things into poetry. I now prefer a speckled banana softening toward brown, but long ago my favorite dessert was the chocolate chiquita pie of a late-night bar and restaurant. Nothing recognizably banana about it, except the name of what was once a premium brand, and a slightly fruity taste pleasantly combined with meringue, custard, chocolate, cream and crust!

    Reply
    • Adam Sedia

      Thank you! The salmon skin demanded as graphic a description as possible. I found its beauty incredible, yet sadly ephemeral — a perfect subject for poetry. The metaphor of the bananas struck me at random, and I wanted to see what I could make of it. “Chiquita” is itself a rebranding of the notorious United Fruit Co., which adopted the name and logo to put on a more friendly face after engineering coups across several Central American countries.

      Reply
  9. Susan Jarvis Bryant

    I just love poems about food and my favorite dish is grilled salmon. You have served me a sumptuous treat that has me aching for a juicy bite of this ambrosial delight. I love the way the poem celebrates the wonder of the succulent gift nature has to offer.

    I once wrote an ode to a banana and wonder how many poems out there are dedicated to this magical fruit. I thoroughly enjoyed your poetic take.

    Adam, thank you!

    Reply
    • Adam Sedia

      Thank you! Salmon is one of my favorite dishes, too. I’ve been eating a lot of it recently as a health food, and I’m always struck by the skin (which I also enjoy eating). I just read your Ode, and it’s a fun piece that I think captures the spirit of the fruit, bright and sweet and enjoyable.

      Reply
  10. C.B. Anderson

    In the first, I am reminded why I always want to eat more sushi. In the second, I have discovered why I have given up bananas in favor of grapes as a basis for my daily breakfast.

    Reply

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