In the Shade of a Pomegrante Tree
The shade of this tree is sickening, leaving a twisted hollow gut in its wake Roots rancorous deep, hapless spirits finding succor beneath its branches choked slowly into submission with insidious silence A fruit, half eaten, discarded to earth in a jealous, negligent fit An angry fist imprinted into the skin, clutching the pits with possessive greed Seeds with such hope in the beginning, a long, unfilled promise Longing, love, lust All the makings of a hallmark romance But time and pain will have its due, and partings are ever laced with loss Seeds rotted, the fist circled tight with vulture clarity Insistent anger clasping polluted possibilities of yesterday Bloodied pulp seeps through, but nails bite deeper Satisfaction in the mirrored, mocking pain Seeds, decaying now, tainted inside the vice From this truth, a tree is planted and beneath its bough, no rest could ever be found If the fist had only released its hold, uncurl its ashen fingers, allow the...