My dad collects cherry seeds
stores them in his old Nestle
bottle, its inch of water
reddened with pulp and extra
saliva. He pitted cherries
with his tongue, brimmed his mouth
with dozens of seeds and spit.
They tumbled through his yellowed
teeth and splash and live and bleed.
Good imaagenery!
This is so powerful – so immediate. The colours of the cherries and the action of the poet’s father in physically pitting them brings the cherries vibrantly to life!
Thought-provoking! I enjoyed it. its inch of water reddened with pulp and extra saliva. Keep writing. 🙂