Eating sorrel leaves
Nóra Blascsók
through the school gate – guilty
pleasure. A child gorging on veg?
I promise it happened. Dusty, wilted
leaves that feet tread on. Or worse.
At home, sorrel came frozen into
a block. The other kids must have
thought me odd. Not the first time.
I tasted snow once to see what would
happen. A fresh piece of grass
snuck in – a bite of two seasons.