Fried Bananas

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Spatula hot slides
over stainless steel, slices
of rot kissed bananas,
butter sputtering skillet
and heavy cinnamon scent
wafting to mingle with you.
You, bedrock, press
into the low of my back,
neck damp as lips dip;
warm calloused hands
sliding apron strings,
your caress, gentle.

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2 Comments
wildsweetonewildsweetoneover 16 years ago
poetry forum

i mentioned this submission in the New Poem Review thread in the Poetry Forum. please feel free to come along and join in with other poets. the 50% temperature rating is given so that it does not alter future temperature ratings. - wildsweetone

GuiltyPleasureGuiltyPleasureover 16 years ago
*****

Short and hot with some nice flavours - you convey the picture well with few well chosen words. I might suggest a change in

"Spatula hot slides

over stainless steel,...."

from "hot" to "heat", it's purely personal but, to me, it just flows better. I do like this poem.

Tess

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