Treasure Island

yvette smith

(LONDON)

A Rotten Apple


I saw it quite by chance
At first I thought it was the way the light fell
Sometimes I had noticed how light danced
And spun threads of gold across the room
And then I noticed it was more than a shadow
In that bowl of fruit half of the bright green globe was bruised
A dark brown bruised
And when i pressed it down it softened and squelched
And I realised it was rotten to the core

Submitted: Saturday, January 04, 2014
Edited: Saturday, January 04, 2014

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

Something is rotten in the state of 'Fruit Bowl! ! '

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