POETRY

Pears

Free verse

Photo by Gabriel Manlake on Unsplash

With the TV off
I can hear your little heart
next to my heart
as we sit at one on end
of the large couch at dark

hip to hip

sharing cold slices of pear
like it were the only ritual.

Your sumptuous gulps
form a magical cadence
only a child could
preciously macerate,
juicing the air
in green lullaby

the teardrop slope
of hip crests snug
and heartbeats seed
in the nectar of quiet.

For my daughter.
Jessica Lee McMillan © 2021