top of page

The Harvest Moon Beckons by Avra Margariti


The old women who were once girls

converge in the field like ley lines

shedding their dresses like cicada coats

they kiss and the earth cries out

as it splits and swallows

the nutrients of its soil

they open up to one another

and the trees fell their leaves and fruits

by the intensity of seismic thigh vibrations

they slot fingers into mouths

and the wheat withers in shame

for never having tasted such sweet nectar

harvest queens reversed

neither planting nor plowing

but sucking up the earth’s marrow

through straws whittled out of their own

weary bones

rejuvenated, reborn

the girls who were once old women

now ready to eat the world

like a ripe pomegranate seed

or a strawberry moon.


AVRA MARGARITI is a queer social work undergrad from Greece. She enjoys storytelling in all its forms and writes about diverse identities and experiences. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Vastarien, Asimov’s, Liminality, Arsenika, and other venues. You can find her on Twitter @avramargariti.

bottom of page