Scarred pears

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Ripening,

Your bruises show on your skin.

Where wind and birds have scratched

And clawed at you.

But impenetrable until ripe

Your green skin is freckled and dented.

Even squirrels attempted a nibble

But the weight of your plumpness denied their grip,

Instead hurling you to the hard ground.

Collected to be put into a pie,

Cut up or discarded.

Your fate awaits.

4 thoughts on “Scarred pears

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