© 2011 RC deWinter ~ All Rights Reserved
bruised vs. perfect fruit
and who doesn’t reach, always, for the perfect specimen –
the smoothest, shiniest piece in the pile?
bruised flesh means rot, decay,
a sour fermenting in the fruit.
not always, though –
some bruises are superficial slights,
memories of a small encounter with another of its kind.
and yes the outward sign is there,
but on close examination,
if you feel around the edges
it becomes apparent that the injury is minor –
cosmetic defect, nothing more,
no deep and secret workings from the inside out
to spoil the enjoyment of the first
who has not bit that perfect piece –
robustly colored, smoothskinned, bright,
only to suffer shock to the tongue,
the flesh of the thing corrupt,
the juices bitter,
while waves of dismay and shock flood the expectant senses?
sometimes the worm hides deep, next to the heart,
its malignancy held close to the core
but pervasive nonetheless,
its depredations invisible to the eye but not to the deeper spirit.
it is only on being brave enough to touch, to taste,
that one can judge the sweetness of the fruit.
© 2011 RC deWinter
A bruised woman holds a perfect fruit.
Self-portrait in digital oils; detail from a photograph shot in November 2002 by Richard Groves, Jr. on the steps of the NYC public library.
Tech specs: Photoshop, Filter Forge, Xero, Virtual Painter
25% of all sales of this picture will be donated to the Susan G. Komen for the Cure Foundation.