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The Garden Island (Free verse) by Jeremi B. Handrinos
In an Oriental evening dress;
You fix me a pineapple salad.
While you are cutting, I
notice that you have set
the fruit's green crown off
to the side of the counter.
When I ask you "Why?", you
smile a Mom's pearls, and
tell me that if we plant
it, a new pineapple will
grow back in its place.
Underneath the crown.
Then you left me alone again
for a spell, how long, I have
forgotten now, but long enough
for the ants to have completely
carried the crown away.
Thinking back...
It might have been nice
if we would have tried
To grow anything together.
Back to poem details
Anonymous | 1.243.88.133 | 10 | July 24, 2013 5:59 AM PDT |
xxx | 68.164.242.151 | 0 | May 25, 2005 6:49 AM PDT |
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Below lie old votes |
Anonymous | 12.219.155.182 | 0 | July 7, 2003 12:15 PM PDT |
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