Mary M. Brown

wonders when it went 

from firm to soft, too

soft, from vibrant green

to fallow, drab, earth 

yellow inside, from 

appetizing to undesirable,

how it traveled here so

fast and far beyond its 

rare moment of ripeness,

beyond its middle age 

even, everyone resigned

to it and knowing the only

thing worth saving now is 

its seed, slick and sturdy

and full of life, but likely, 

realistically, just tossed.

It looks at its reflection

in the small stand of water 

pooling beside it 

on the counter, wonders

again if what it sees

is what it is and how. 

a retired writing professor, lives in Anderson, Indiana. Her work appears on the Poetry Foundation and American Life in Poetry websites and recently in Rockvale Review, Thimble, and Open: Journal of Arts and Letters. She is the poetry editor of Flying Island.