A Memorable Strawberry Poem by RIC BASTASA

a strawberry in my hand
is just another strawberry in the farm
nothing special
there is no bliss in there
inanimate red berry
and even if i am hungry
and i eat it
it is still nothing to me
and you who see it
shall notice nothing and
just let another day pass
like a number in a page
of your calendar,

but that strawberry on the floor
from your lips
which you once held tenderly
between your fingers
as you lay naked in bed
teasing me on that night of
the lonely hearts
and when you bit it a little
leaving what is more luscious
juicy
and sweet in your mouth
your tongue peeping
like a snail

and you let it go
like a red butterfly from your
soft hands
and it falls and rolls on the
floor and
then stops near you
lingerie

that strawberry half consumed
still lingers in my mind,

perhaps forever unforgotten
it is special, very special.