- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Strawberry Season
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It is strawberry season.
I buy them weekly,
put them in the fridge with intentions
of shortcake, whipped cream
and sharing them with you
Without you they are not the same,
sit on the shelf, become fuzzy
with sunken bruises that reach center
until at last, unsalvageable, I am
forced to toss them untouched into the waste.
I bought more today. Sliced them
in quarters, I laid the groundwork one more time,
hoping,with preparation I could consume them
before the memory of you turned
my stomach into knots
Time will tell. I remain hopeful.
- COMMENTS
Anonymousalmost 18 years agowow I really liked this one SugarMountain. I hvae been there, you captured it very well. good for you for quartering them up, like the four chambers of the heart, which is more strawberry than heart anyway.
the last sentence seemed to be like an afterthought, not necessary, making it too easy.
ps dip them whole, right into the sugar bowl. imagine yourself getting in trouble letting the red juice clump the crystals, and not caring anyway.
sweet
anna
Anonymousalmost 18 years agoA solid, well crafted piece. I loved the metaphor that you've shaped throughout the poem.
Great stuff
p.s your poem has been mentioned in today's new poem reviews
