A ripe sweet pepper
may look like a heart
but is really more like
a lung—full of naught.
Often enough, its seedy knob
has already begun to rot.
It isn’t any sort of pump,
nor does its plumpness come
from love’s leaven.
Most damning of all:
despite being red, and a pepper,
it is not hot.
I live in an Appalachian hollow in the Juniata watershed of central Pennsylvania, and spend a great deal of time walking in the woods. Here’s a bio. All of my writing here is available for reuse and creative remix under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License. For attribution in printed material, my name (Dave Bonta) will suffice, but for web use, please link back to the original. Contact me for permission to waive the “share alike” provision (e.g. for use in a conventionally copyrighted work).
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