Pomegranate dangling from a branch,

Tethered to home,

Ripens and falls away,

Hastens the process of death.

 ~

The branch renews,

Sprouts a new fruit,

Which drops away

Toward imminent death.

 ~

Home dies not,

Only its offspring.

 ~

Pome, an apple,

And granate,

Having many seeds,

Chambers beneath a leathery roof.

 ~

The moist blood-fruits,

Like newborns into a home,

Become tasty to this world—

Or not.

 ~

Home and offspring

Are consumed by this earth.

 ~

Home dies not,

Only its offspring.

 ~

The tree remains,

Tall and steadfast,

Unless severed,

Torched or poisoned.

 ~

Yet another root snakes upward,

With rains from spring.

A branch extends again

Within a family tree—

 ~

Home.

~

S.A. Bort 3 November 2014

photo from:  http://all-free-download.com/free-photos/pomegranate_picture_167090.html

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