Have you ever thought about how oranges are naturally sliced into sections, as if Mother Nature herself decided that some fruit would be designed for the sole purpose of sharing? She made it simple for us to peel the rind back, to open up its sweet center for us, already divided and prepared as an offering.
Perhaps Jean Little describes it best in her poem, fittingly titled, Oranges:
I peel oranges neatly.
The sections come apart cleanly, perfectly in my hands.
When Emily peels an orange, she tears holes in it.
Juice squirts in all directions.
“Kate,” she says, “I don’t know how you do it!”
Emily is my best friend.
I hope she never learns how to peel oranges.
– Jean Little
This poem, short but sweet, is just one of many poems that have been written with oranges as its subject. This dynamic fruit has been used as a symbol by plenty of poets who have found that the sweetness of oranges goes beyond just taste.
Take Little’s poem, for example, which uses an orange as a symbol of friendship. In this poem, Kate can peel an orange easily and neatly, while her best friend, Emily struggles to do it without making a mess. The last line, “I hope she never learns to peel oranges,” can be interpreted as affectionate, in which Kate hopes that she will always be able to help her friend and show her love through the gentle act of peeling her fruit. In this way, the two friends complement each other, and they’ll always have a reason to be there for one another.
This is how I was introduced to orange poetry, with oranges as a symbol of friendship and kindness. It made me recognize how something I had been doing my whole life, peeling, splitting, and sharing oranges is, in many ways, innately intimate. How beautiful it is, to have something as simple as a fruit facilitate such a kind action.
In Wendy Cope’s poem, The Orange, she writes about a person sharing a large orange with two friends and how happy it made them. They go about their day enjoying the simple pleasures of life, and the poem ends with a reflective line, “I love you. I’m glad I exist.” To me, the ‘you’ is not meant to refer to a single person, but to the world, the universe, or to life in general. The sentiment is that this person appreciates the little beauties of life, and is glad to exist within it. And it all started by sharing an orange.
Of course, oranges have been used in different contexts in poetry to symbolize many things. Oranges, by Roisin Kelly, uses the concept of choosing an orange at a fruit stall to symbolize the process of getting to know a person. Personally, I love these few lines: “I’ll test / a few for firmness / scrape some rind off / with my fingernail / so that a citrus scent / will linger there all day. / I won’t be happy / with the first one I pick / but will try different ones / until I know you. How / will I know you?”
I’ve fallen in love with orange poetry because it takes the almost universal experience of eating an orange — something seemingly mundane — and finds the beauty in it. In a way, these poems feel old and new at the same time; people have been using oranges as symbolism for years, not just in poems, but in all kinds of art. And yet, we still manage to find new and interesting ways to use them to tell a story, to convey a feeling, or to share a bit of sweetness, much like sharing slices of an orange.
In case you’re craving more orange poetry, here are a few others I recommend:
- Oranges by Gary Soto
- scent of orange blossoms: haiku/senryu by Teresa Mei Chuc
- The Boy Who Sells Sweet Oranges by Alicia Cadilla
- Oranges by Joseph Davison-Duddles
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