Poem: In Season

In the 21-century, most of us live in a world where we are privileged in one way or another. A couple weekends ago, I went on a ski trip with my dad and marveled at how much fruit there was for breakfast in the middle of the winter. I was also in the middle of reading Inkdeath, which takes place in the Inkworld during winter. So the book prompted me to compare my circumstances with those of the characters. The differences between our century and those of the middle ages is astounding.

Of course, I read medieval fiction and fantasy stories all the time, so you would think I would have thought of these things already. But there’s just so much to take in. I wondered, how much of our present technology is really necessary? And what is privilege really?

This poem is just an exploration of technology and privilege and how it differs from country to country.

In Season

Apples are always in season

in this, the first world,

where we know everything.

Crank up the thermostat,

and you can feel the heat soaking into your skin

like the summer sun, harnessed with a metal bit;

or turn up the AC, and relish the nip of winter,

like an albino housecat ready to sprint

at the crack of the door.

Raspberries are only always in season

if you’re willing to ship them across the globe,

like little red slaves to sate our appetite for fruit

in a world where we think we know everything.

But some slip on a sweater,

and northerners laugh at your shivers

while they stride about the snow in shorts;

and Europe—sweet Europe—laughs at the thought of AC,

for summer, like a fickle butterfly flirting with one flower then the next,

only sticks around for two weeks.

***

Similar Posts: Weird Winter Weather and Some Notes on the Three Days of Summer

What are some of the privileges you take advantage of? If you've ever traveled to another country, what are some of the major differences you've noticed, aside from language?