Unripe

Been making salad all these homebound days –
tomato, lettuce, cucumber, and seeds,
balsamic-dressed, with grated cheese arrays,
and avocado (most my body needs).
But as this plague obnoxiously proceeds,
there had to come a day without the last.
Postponing unripe fruit for future feeds,
with thinner toss of lunch I broke my fast.

(Huitain)

This entry was posted in Coronaverse, Food, Poetry and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s