Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Poetry Tuesday: Dried Pears and the Newness of Everything.

Pigs ear? No. Dried Pear.

pears appear rare
and, rarer, their table,
their chair, and this bowl
of aforementioned pears
how pronounced, seen whole.

[Paul's gift of a dried pear slice from Terrafina in Brooklyn was a revelation. Soft and thick, with a granular, chewy center, they contain real notes of pear on a backdrop of natural sweetness and vanilla. Thinking about how beautiful an experience eating one was, I was reminded of the above, imperfect poem from 1999. I still know what I was trying to get at, but it remains in revision (unlike the dried pears).]

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