All My Life I Never Once
sliced into a pomegranate.
It was delivered to me
open and pretty—
turned up pithy with fresh
juice just starting
to soak the inner white
flesh—
all I can ask now is why,
why wasn’t I given any fruit
(but most of all this fruit)
to hold in my hand with
all its potential?
Still, I will buy a lone ruman
when in season and leave it
unopen. Watch it shrivel
to a dry ruby rind before
collapsing in on itself,
like a little Arab city
falling across a century
into ruin.

Header photo by Cornell J, courtesy Shutterstock. Photo of Majda Gama by Sara T Gama.
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- Source: https://www.terrain.org/2024/poetry/majda-gama/