The Pear
Michael Livingston Frisbie
Poetry
As I got better, you got
Sick, which is inevitable
In a one-bedroom apartment.
After class, I went shopping
To buy you soup and
Stopped by the fruit bins
(I wish I could say
The idea was my own, but I
Got it from The Godfather, Part II).
I bought you a pear to leave
On the table for you to find,
Something sweet and simple in taste and beauty.
How long did I stand there
Looking for the perfect pear?
It did not matter in the end
Because I cut it into slices for you
And set them in your lap
As you honked into a tissue.
These are the ways I love you,
In sliced pears and peeled oranges,
And reading to you in bed while you’re sick.
And it breaks my heart to hear your
Beleaguered coughs, but my love, I’ll take
Such good care of you
One pear at a time.
Michael Livingston Frisbie is a recent alum of Missouri State University with a B.S. in Entrepreneurship. When not at his typewriter, he enjoys playing chess, drinking coffee, and walking in the woods. He lives in Springfield, Missouri with his wife. Learn more about his writing on Instagram @michael.frisbie.writer