The importance of Oranges

At Christmastime
Mama kept oranges
In a perfect pyramid
On an old bread dough tray
That had belonged to my grandmother.
On display.

We never dared disturb them
And so they shriveled,
Mummified.
Mama would say (perplexed),
I can't understand why you
Won't eat that fruit.
So pretty.

Now I buy them
Extravagantly
In plastic net bags
And pile them in a jumble of
Bowls and dishes and plates.
Every season's offering
In disarray.