Poem: Jewel of Winter
Not for the last time do we rub
the red seeded apple in season,
breaking our jewel of winter
on our altar. Not for the last time
do we seek from the aril
grown in the gardens of paradise
promises of prosperity, good luck,
abundance in the New Year.
After we drink, not for the last time,
this nectar of the underworld,
let us imagine the many seeds
unspilled, the calyx a crown
we’ll re-raise. Let us speak in the silence
of hunger as it used to be.
Savor the pomegranate?
Write a poem of your own, based on Kelly’s images or choose a line from Maureen’s poem as a starting place. Post on your blog and link to us (we love that), or just drop your poems here in the comment box.
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