Small Stone for June 28, 2011

stonePoured out, they clink like ice cubes against the china bowl, globes of deep maroon, sparkling with frost.  I use the same pair of bamboo chopsticks, tips tinted pale indigo with the juice of countless cherries and blueberries. I tweezer them one by one into my mouth.  Cold.  They crunch between my teeth.  Sweet.  The juice melts across my tongue. The day’s bright heat is outside; I am inside in the shady cool, and the cherries are melting inside me.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.