Pear Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Pear

I took out of fridge
All over was green.

It was hard to bite on
So, not a member of
Those sitting on trees
That we as devil kids
Climbed and plucked and
Ate and shared, even sold.

Our pears ripen in sun
With great perfume
And a taste beyond words,
With unique, golden look.

Feel sad for city boys:
"Ever know difference? "

Obviously, cannot;
They never saw sun-ripe
Nor did they see branch
Hanging down the trees.