Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
I pull my damp, faded jean's jacket out of the machine. Something clatters. Oh good, a dime. No. A cherry seed. Now you're going to tell me that cherry have pits, right? But "pit" is such a dismal little word. And this shiny clean trophy sports a history of petty thievery, committed in the local grocery store. A big yellow cherry with a pink blush. Just one, chewed boldly. Its hard center hidden in my pocket.
0
Aug 30, 2015
Aug 30, 2015 at 3:48 PM UTC
Cherry Seed
I pull my damp, faded jean's jacket out of the machine. Something clatters. Oh good, a dime. No. A cherry seed. Now you're going to tell me that cherry have pits, right? But "pit" is such a dismal little word. And this shiny clean trophy sports a history of petty thievery, committed in the local grocery store. A big yellow cherry with a pink blush. Just one, chewed boldly. Its hard center hidden in my pocket.
©Elisa Maria Argiro
FrancescaRegan
Written by
Aug 30, 2015
Aug 30, 2015 at 3:48 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem