The First Bite, by Ed Kline

The First Bite

April 7, 2020

So long ago,

I’ve lost most

of the image:

the time, the place,

but I’ll never

forget the fruit:

its red skin

shining like evil,

like a warning,

like a stop

sign screaming no,

but how could

I say no,

with the fruit

round and heavy,

resting in my

palm like a

baseball,

no, better – like

a globe, like

I was holding

the whole earth

in my hand?

The first bite,

the only bite

worth mentioning,

so crisp it

felt like the

apple bit back,

juice running

down my chin

like tears, tears

rich with the

knowledge of

sugar.