I bought one pomegranate this morning just to admire it.
They were two for five dollars, but I was only
purchasing color.

Can we eat it? my daughter asked that evening.
She was limping through her chemistry homework,
watching me watching the pomegranate.

Not until I’m finished, I answered vaguely,
wondering what exactly that meant.

It sat on the counter, defining red. Even the tomatoes
knew not to argue.

When my husband came home, he palmed it absently
then rolled it down the hallway for the dog.

It’s in my office, now, catching the afternoon sun.
I’m not sure why it matters so much
but it does. I know that the seeds inside are
waiting, jewel-like, encrusted in their pulpy womb.
But for the moment I’m content just to
see it there when I turn my head. Sitting
quietly on the sill. Concentrating all that color
in one place.






Photo by Shai Barzilay


About Author

Kim Triedman has been nominated for the anthologies Best New Poets 2009 and Best of the Web 2010 and her writing has been widely published and recognized. She is a graduate of Brown University and lives in the Boston area. She is the managing editor of Ibbetson Street. Her first poetry collection — “bathe in it or sleep” — was published by Main Street Rag Publishing Company in October of 2008.

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