Green Fruit
Become a
Premium Member
and post notes and photos about your poem like Ann Foster.
Green Fruit
In the jar,
the cucumbers are pickling.
Grandma put them there,
days ago.
Slowly...
They are getting more tart,
more smart,
and will fart,
before the end.
What?
I love pickles,
they make me smile.
They make my taste buds go pop.
I love the really vicious ones,
that leave you touching your tongue
to the roof of your mouth,
for at least ten minutes too.
Those are the hot ones.
Grandpa calls them, "fire in a jar".
Fancy fruits put away
for another day,
barely make it through today...
if I am around.
Just saying.
Pickles.
Copyright © Ann Foster | Year Posted 2022
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment