is round,
roughshod,
bright citron, all light,
electric-gold like the sun;
a blossom-fragrant invitation
repelling acidly at first taste--
its cut edge a wet starburst of
pale outflung rays; and a sliced
wedge is a divided, diaphanous,
shockingly bitter substance
shunned by most tongues
until it's paired sweetly,
in pure simplicity,
to day-stopping
hot or cool
tea
first published in Illinois State Poetry Society
©2010 Bonnie Manion