Contributor Series 8: Feast and Famine
The Law of Persimmons
By Cathy Douglas
Everyone knows what a peach should be:
the tingling essence of summer.
I could drool when I think of its sweet young cheeks,
its personality all sweetness and spice.
But my mythic peach must be hiding somewhere
behind the bins of hard plums and berries,
and all the other callow green things
that insinuate themselves into my plastic grocery sack.
Because these fruits are a bunch of duds!
Where’s the juicy, ginger-skinned hottie of my desires,
who in one bite could romance away everything mundane?
A woman doesn’t need this kind of disappointment.
That’s why I’ll never buy a persimmon:
If fruit’s never bitten, it can’t betray.
And with all the poor specimens out there,
it’s best to leave some dreams unopened.
Cathy Douglas’ poem A Tree Without Glasses appeared at vox poetica in December 2010.
