Serving House: A Journal of Literary Arts
  • Home
  • About
  • Archive
  • Bio Notes
  • Bookshelf
  • Contents
  • Submit
SHJ Issue 17
Fall 2017

Three Pieces in the Form of a Pear
or For Your Information

by Elisabeth Adwin Edwards

the apple,
ready to eat
when plucked,
a pear must go through a series of changes
before it can deliver its full splendor.
For winter pears, Anjou, Bosc and Comice,
this becoming may take several weeks.

a pear ripens from the inside out

In Japan, these tree-suspended charms
once guarded souls from evil. In Egypt,
Greece and Rome, they dined with Gods.
In France, they so besotted Charlemagne
he consumed them raw, poached, spiced,
dried, smothered in spirits, day and night,
never reaching satiety. In 1887, they lay down
willingly for Van Gogh, an orgy of buttery skins,
hip upon hip, shoulder to shoulder in the straw-colored light
arching curves and stems, all their imperfections on their heads.

on a fruit of firm flesh, bruises are possible not immediately apparent

please make sure to take the forefinger and thumb and press gently
the neck of the pear and if a slight yielding then it is ready to be enjoyed
but remember this is a process not to be rushed but remember desire
and the sweet sorrow of longing the core is always inedible
now you may bite down and let the juice unabashedly

weep down your chin



* David Sugar, fruit physiologist, Oregon State University


SHJ Issue 17
Fall 2017

Elisabeth Adwin Edwards

After a successful 20-year career as a regional theater actor, Elisabeth Adwin Edwards has shifted her focus to poetry; her work has appeared in Rogue Agent, Askew, Poeticdiversity, Melancholy Hyperbole, and Tinderbox Poetry Journal. She now lives full-time in Los Angeles with her artist-husband, eleven-year-old daughter, and a tarantula.

“...we have been born here to witness and celebrate. We wonder at our purpose for living. Our purpose
is to perceive the fantastic. Why have a universe if there is no audience?” — Ray Bradbury