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Ira Desmond
Poems
Nov 2021
California, six years in
The fruit of
the Pacific madrone
tree may at
first entice you
with its fiery
scarlet skin.
But bite
into it and
you’ll taste
astringent, gristly pith—
with hard seeds
like discarded
children’s teeth.
You will know
that foolish feeling
that lurks within
the shadow between
sugary expectations
and bitter truth.
#california
#expectations
#fruit
#bitterness
#disappointment
#tree
#moving
Written by
Ira Desmond
39/M/Bay Area
(39/M/Bay Area)
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