a ritual

I pick one from the tree, split it, knifeless.

Hold out my offering, wordless.

A half a pomegranate in each hand -

you choose your half.

We each indulge in the ruby red morsels,

biting handfuls of juice-bursts at a time.

The taste of a late summer transitioning into fall.

You could say that this is where it really started;

With a half-pomegranate offering.

Pomegranate © Christine Flintham