POETRY

When I was a child

Living in Shiraz

I never had one or two

Pomegranates

Eating pomegranates

Was about having

5 or 6 large fruits

In one sitting

First my mom would put down

A lot of newspapers

To limit the stains

Then my brother and I

Would sit on them

Open a big bag

And work our way through

A dozen or more

I pierce the leathery skin

And take off the crown

Revealing the ruby grains

As I split it open

The inside is separated

By a white thin spongy

Layer of membrane walls

Covering and separating

Sacs filled with shiny

Juicy, acidic, crimson seeds

So red and so many of them

The seeds so sweet, tart, and tangy

They have a fresh and pleasant taste

This abundance

These beautiful seeds

Are like life experiences

You must take your time

Enjoy them individually

For they are too ephemeral

And before long

They will be forever gone

--Rotterdam, Netherlands

This poem was first published in Payam-e-Ashena, a Southern California Iranian-American community journal.