#pomes

[bandagedthoughtsblog]

[chaparraljournal]

The fed and green sprout of a toyon (Heteromeles arbutifolia).

Toyons are evergreen shrubs native to California. They produce red berries called pomes, which are related to apples and stone fruits such as peaches and plums.

The pomes are eaten by birds, coyotes and other animals who, in turn, effectively help spread toyon seeds.

We planted a couple of toyons near the front of our house, and now have a seedling some distance away—proof of distribution!

[or-dhuilleag]

top five short poems

gosh this is a toughie, blessings upon u. here's what immediately comes to mind... criteria being Must Fit within a single square screenshot / 2 verses max. honorable mention to paul celan sappho catullus and yeats

[dogunderwater]

Despite My Efforts Even My Prayers Have Turned into Threats by Kaveh Akbar

Holy father I can’t pretend I’m not afraid to see you again but I’ll say that when the time comes I believe my courage will expand like a sponge cowboy in water. My earth- father was far braver than me —  coming to America he knew no English save Rolling Stones lyrics and how to say thanks God. Will his goodness roll over to my tab and if yes, how soon? I’m sorry for neglecting your myriad signs, which seem obvious now as a hawk’s head on an empty plate. I keep waking up at the bottom of swimming pools, the water reflecting whatever I miss most: whiskey- glass, pill bottles, my mother’s oleander, which was sweet and evergreen but toxic in all its parts. I know it was silly to keep what I kept from you; you’ve always been so charmed by my weaknesses. I just figured you were becoming fed up with all your making, like a virtuoso trying not to smash apart her flute onstage. Plus, my sins were practically devotional: two peaches stolen from a bodega, which were so sweet I savored even the bits I flossed out my teeth. I know it’s no excuse, but even thinking about them now I’m drooling. Consider the night I spent reading another man’s lover the Dream Songs in bed — we made it to “a green living / drops limply” before we were tangled into each other, cat still sleeping at our feet. Allow me these treasures, Lord. Time will break what doesn’t bend — even time. Even you.

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/90975/despite-my-efforts-even-my-prayers-have-turned-into-threats

[kristo-flowers]

Firethorn

[negreabsolut]

Pomes de tardor, per Lucy Almey Bird. [font]

[tf2-hrt]

We have existed for so much longer than we have had words for what we are, we’re soldiers, we are caregivers, we are lovers, we are artists, we are alive

some day the sun will shine on our faces but for now we cannot forget to bask in our own light, in the light of our siblings, of our lovers, of our family, or of our friends. it is the light of love and the light of hope that we must keep kindred and burning, they can take a lot, but they can’t take our hope, our will or our love. whatever we do we must love, we must laugh, we must hope, we must live

[unkn0wnvariable]

Hawthorn Pomes

Vibrant red pomes on a hawthorn branch, adding a splash of colour amongst the trees in Glapthorn Cow Pastures.