Tonight's Poet Corner: Sonnet Solstice #189
I Ate
by Belinda Roddie
I ate a pomegranate from the bowl
when I was waiting in the underworld
that was my mother's kitchen. Ma unfurled
the ribbons on her gown and made them twirl
as she danced, kicking up her heels so dust
flew into my face. I spat out the seeds
from the fruit and counted them on the hard
surface of the table. There were more than
I expected, and no one noticed but
me. I was still hungry - my mouth was cold,
but my mind was hot, my stomach broiling,
aching for something more than the sweetness
that only lingered for an hour or two.
My mother, mid-dance, said, "No more for you."
by Belinda Roddie
I ate a pomegranate from the bowl
when I was waiting in the underworld
that was my mother's kitchen. Ma unfurled
the ribbons on her gown and made them twirl
as she danced, kicking up her heels so dust
flew into my face. I spat out the seeds
from the fruit and counted them on the hard
surface of the table. There were more than
I expected, and no one noticed but
me. I was still hungry - my mouth was cold,
but my mind was hot, my stomach broiling,
aching for something more than the sweetness
that only lingered for an hour or two.
My mother, mid-dance, said, "No more for you."
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