Thursday, October 3, 2024

Pomegranates, a poem

 Pomegranates

Two pomegranates ripened by my door,
  dangling in the morning sun.
Share one with me now;
  the other will hang there still,
in the lengthening blue shadow
  of the house, when we return.

Stephen Brooke ©2024

Not really a sijo, though it is somewhat in the form of one. I'm willing to simply call it a poem.

No comments:

Post a Comment