Memories free in verse
I remember entire apples consumed, only stems remained to be thrown away I remember wet crunching sounds even as I was still cutting mine into slices I spread thick peanut butter, too much of, it on apples, as he did, but his used to be spread upon the skin; then all over the fleshy insides, as he made his way to the center, intent upon devouring his every apple's fruitless existence I suppose he, he, he never ate enough apple pips to actually poison himself, though Agatha Christie had planted this thought in my impressionable young mind; when I mentioned cyanide to him, he laughed I still like to spread chunky peanut butter on glistening smooth green skinned crescents, but sometimes I cut entire apples in half not from top to bottom, but across their rounded stomachs instead - to see their stars before I throw them away
A d’Verse poetics prompt:
‘How to Cut a Pomegranate’
Today’s challenge at d’Verse is to think of a fruit, how it looks before and after it has been cut open, and how it tastes. Think about where and how it grows, and what it makes you think of. You may choose to write a poem in the style of Imtiaz Dharker, or you can explore the fruit in another way and in any form you wish. Whichever you choose, your poem should appeal to the senses.