The thimble is thinking of imposter's
syndrome. Bigger than sunflower,
but softer than guitar strings. It gets a summer
job watering the garden of a grocery store. It
thinks it is all easy, until it forgets to wear
sunscreen & gloves and pricks its fingers
from tiny thorns. It keeps on bitching
that the pain everywhere is brutal to deal with.
The thimble wilts very quickly in the summer
heat. Like a banana which you buy greenish but
turns brownish spots in 2 days. So you must
consume it quickly like sugar snap peas,
or radish when quickly pulled out
from the soil, crisp and slightly peppery.
The thimble loves April's Fool. It likes to
eat melting ice-cream when walking
to a farmer's market.
It is also a memory box.
Keeping all the crochet bonnets and
half-sewed materials, and all the
unfinished verses,
no titles, just a tumble-
weeds of words.
Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Quality Poems hosted by Kim M. Russell. Inspired by the style and poem format of The Quality of Sprawl by Les Murray.
