picking up plums

Curses form inwardly
as I stare at the plums
strewn across the floor.

Do I attempt
the five-second rule?
Or do I throw them out?

I review my irrational options
ignoring the real reason
I curse.

With a widened stance
l crouch down, slowly, carefully
reaching over my growing belly.

In a few weeks my dilemma
will be whether I leave the fruit
or set down the baby.

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poetic asides

For this week’s prompt, write a tough spot poem. The poem can be about your own situation (past, present, or future), someone else’s, or whatever you can conjure up. Think late bills, shootouts, and tough choices. – Robert Lee Brewer

let’s connect

What’s put you in a tough spot lately? You can comment below, or find me on Twitter, Facebook, and LinkedIn. Plus, sign up for free e-mail updates from this blog in the top right-hand corner of the page.