The sphere of deliciousness
Supple, though firm to touch
Heavy with citrus sourness
–
I chose it
Amongst all the others
Of its kingdom, genus, phylum, and class
–
It was yellow and fulfilled
What I thought a pomelo should look like
The form of such a fruit
–
I chose this one, though
From the others in the bin
Shiny from the water mist
Into my bag it went
Then out with was checked
Then borne in my canvass bag
–
Now it sits waiting
In my fridge, cool and dark
For a sour breakfast treat
–
To wake me from my slumber
To spoil the taste of my toothpaste and coffee
And to grace the dawn’s light with my happy smile.
