Friday, September 26, 2014


I have a history of sharing fruit with the kids in my neighborhood.  When I was kid.  In Jersey.  Mostly bananas.  Mostly apples.  To this day I love sharing fruit.  I try not being too agressive about foisting fuyu persimmons on acquaintences.  Although I am always pleased to the core when someone takes and eats and says thanks.  And in my heart-of-heart, that one would accept another fuyu.

And this, exacly,  how I write a poem.  And why.

1 comment:

  1. Kent says he didn't know a fruit was always two servings until he met me. Half for him, half for me.