Three little pills and a Pomegranate
Muse on the table
are you food or drink?
Three little pills on my yellow placemat:
One clever red clover
renders me immune to restlessness,
Vitamin B mitigates “the change”,
Calcium Citrate coats the nerves,
protects the children from swinging
moods, banged doors.
Biting into a shiny red orb allowed
Persephone to see her mother half the year.
My prying fingers reveal a messy beehive
of oblong kernels.
Mouth puckers as crystal blobs,
nutty & tart, stain my fingers rouge.
Will it make me mortal to eat these seeds?
Already I have become human
in my daughter’s eyes.
I told Katie that her cat died.
Rocking in darkness
comforted us both.