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.
