‘From Animal Crossing to zucchini’ by Sarah Peecher

Summer Harvest
Jim Ross

From Animal Crossing to zucchini

That one cashier at my neighborhood grocery
wears a pastel-infused Animal Crossing shirt
which practically demands a compliment, so I give it.

Weeks later, after the world seems like it has
somersaulted, he graces my rainbow outfit
with a ray of returned sunshine. He’s one of
only a few faces I’ve seen without the barrier
of a screen in weeks.

I haven’t seen my parents in person in months.
When I do see them, Mom asks how I feel
when people don’t wear masks. Dad puts up
a wall when “this administration” comes up.
Dad grills burgers and zucchini, and Mom talks
about video calls with her preschool kids as another
Indiana sunset paints the screened-in porch pink.

Sitting there, in the pink, reminds me of those discussions
we’d have in my cherry-blossom bedroom after I
committed some tween transgression or another.
Like when they found my internet search history
and wondered why I keyed in certain terms.
Was I really just curious?

I made sure to erase my history from then on.
Often, there’s a state-border barrier between us. But I can’t
keep a grill at my apartment and I don’t have a carefully
landscaped backyard to spend my evenings in.
And my stomach doesn’t drop the way it used to
when Mom’s eyebrows rise or Dad disagrees.

Still, they seem easier to understand when I’m
on my walk to buy groceries. I buy zucchini and
wish I’d taken some from their flourishing garden.
That one cashier says, “See you again soon!”


Sarah Peecher is a poet living and working in Chicago. She is a second-year Creative Writing MFA student at Columbia College Chicago and a Nathan Breitling Poetry Fellow. Her recent work appears or is forthcoming in Allium, Blood Tree Literature, and an anthology from Santa Monica College. She also teaches writing at Columbia College Chicago. https://www.instagram.com/_peachpetal/.


Jim Ross jumped into creative pursuits in 2015 after rewarding research career. With a graduate degree from Howard University, in seven years he’s published nonfiction, fiction, poetry, photography, hybrid, and plays in over 175 journals on five continents. Photo publications include Barren, Burningword, Camas, DASH, Kestrel, Litro, Feral, Stonecoast, Sweet, and Typehouse. Jim and his wife split time between city and mountains.