Bauble brothers hang red,
one rotund, one spouted,
both made a magenta
melancholy by fog.
Its white whispers nightly,
slipping their bloody seeds
down paper-funnel tales
of supple branches stripped,
and the skin-cracking eyes
coming too soon to cull.
4 comments:
This is a poem I wrote for a prompt based on a photo of two pomegranates.
I loved this, you paint a vividly dark picture. I'm found of the theatrical feeling, and admit thinking about other things than pomegranates.
I like the sound and visuals of "Bauble brothers hang red" very much. Bauble Brothers, a title with an elastic wobbling feel.
Pomegranates really have "skin-cracking eyes".
Ande, I have a penchant for stirring in a little darkness whenever I can.
Jenny, "elastic wobbling feel" is a great way to describe it. Thanks.
Post a Comment