The Pear He Eats For Breakfast

Her skin is smooth,

yet more familiar than when I plucked her

quickly from among the others

for my husband’s breakfast.

I slow, notice her blush,

place her ripeness

to my nose and inhale

trying to remember

what she smells like.

Her stem is dry,

sturdy brown

as though away from the others

she is stronger.

I bathe her

in cool water,

prepare her

for the coming feast.

She is sweet sacrifice.

Leigh Marthe

Leigh lives in Westmoreland, New Hampshire, right next to East Westmoreland.