Spring 2026

Letter from the Editor

I peeled my orange
That was so bright against
The gray of December
That, from some distance,
Someone might have thought
I was making a fire in my hands.
– Gary Soto, “Oranges”

As I write this, I am waiting for a three-foot satsuma mandarin to arrive. After fourteen years of guessing and planting, I finally decided to add a citrus tree in my backyard like many of my neighbors have done. The meyer’s lemon and key lime on the front porch have not yet yielded fruit, but the smell mixed with the lavender and jasmine is heavenly.

It seems like a lifetime ago when I discovered that time outside was the fastest way to regulate my nervous system. When the hearing for the first round of healthcare cuts were happening in the state legislature, I planted a chaste tree in a small corner of the yard up against the wall that separates my trees from the solar-lit trees of my neighbors that I have written love poems for again and again.

On the opposite end of the wall is the pomegranate that convinced me this was home as soon as I saw it. A year later, loss led to a Chicago hardy fig backdropped by the other neighbors’ overgrown palm. The neighbors to the left have one of the first lots in the original development. Their backyard has towering eucalyptus and mesquite trees that house a hawk that once swooped and circled near my head while I was playing with my new puppy. Gone are the trees that haven’t made it through the rising heat as two more are struggling – but we can’t know what will happen until that moment arrives.

Fall used to be my favorite season, and I am reluctant to say otherwise. Spring has become beautiful in a way that seems essential to our survival on many levels, and what we plant now for the future is more strategic. Partially, I am planting the mandarin tree for my students who love citrus of every kind. Like the pomegranates and figs from my current fruit trees, the mandarins will end up in the common space where everyone leaves leftover baked goods and the harvest from their backyards.

Our recent issues have yielded more work, and I can’t help but think it’s because we need to be surrounded by and fed by the good words of others. I’m sure I’ve written in previous issues about Gary Soto’s poem, “Oranges.” If not, I encourage you to look it up. Soto takes us back to a winter walk in his childhood with a girl that he wants to impress. Like the oranges in Soto’s poem, our Spring Issue is filled with stories as gifts from the contributing writers. On behalf of The Citron Review, we hope that you enjoy these stories as much as we do, and that they bring light to you wherever you are.

Sincerely,
Angela M. Brommel
Editor-in-Chief
Poetry Editor
The Citron Review

Image: Vincent Van Gogh, “Still Life of Oranges and Lemons with Blue Gloves” 1889, National Gallery of Art, Collection of Mr. and Mrs. Paul Mellon.