The Severed Lime

The severed lime
Lying on the white tile
Residue of last night’s tonic
Greets me with its fading sheen
I wonder do all limes hold eleven wedges
Like people two kidneys & eyes
But only one heart & mouth
And if not what makes
For ten or eight?

Italian tomatoes
Have three sections
Thickly separated moistly
Sheltering the gelatinous seeds
I wonder are tomatoes always the same
Like raccoons with their four feet
All to run & two to open jars
I suspect beef steaks
Must have more

I love symmetry
Wherever it is found
Especially the twos of what
We have two of as well as the ones
Which because of their unique potential
Can make us all melt with pleasure
Like chocolate & cool to reform
Why is it that I love
To count things?


About Peter Notehelfer

I'm a retired people person who now finds the time to watch the little details of the world without worrying about being watched by anyone . . . I live on an Island north of Seattle with my wife named Ellen, a yellow dog named McGee, a yellow cat named Gatzby, and four fine chickens . . . I read fiction, bake bread, smoke salmon, and fish whenever the weather allows . . . Oh, and yes, I try to write a poem every day simply to avoid senility!
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One Response to The Severed Lime

  1. God in the details

    Liked by 1 person

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