Zen Writing prompt: “The First Days” by James Wright
A pear smashes open on the walkway.
Cracked yellow to the compost
downed dove, heavy in the hand.
Squirrels scramble branches
leap and clutch. A pear bounces.
Fermenting masses darken the fern
brown drips through fingers
the air smells sour.
Pear scraps sweep before the broom
water curls on mottled wood.
Thud of a pear.
pear like a maiden.
Pear curved round itself
yellow flecked with red.
Where pear has fallen
white flesh, yellow flesh.
Sun has met moon.
The child is lovely.
“He would have died if I hadn't knelt down”
The misfortune of the bee--
the pear has tumbled upon it
crushed its ecstatic fumbling.
A man sets it free
cuts the white flesh from it
A life regained.
The bee does not stay to thank the man
or know there is a man to thank.
He tilts drunkenly as he flies away.
Behind the screen the TV drones its agony.
The man looks at the fragments of pear
the kind knife.
Many are leaving this world as we speak
and coming to it.