Thank you, Anni. Maybe I'm a masochist because I do like making things difficult for myself. I considered rhyming each line as well, but that was a bridge too far. Perhaps next time...
Tiny starbursts, the little yellow blossoms
pinpricked through the dark foliage,
those hairy stems and proliferating fat leaves,
each a humble nova of secret promise,
a dream of bountiful fruitfulness and red
the bulging containment of juice and flesh
hanging heavy and ripe with goodness,
shining skin taut with liquid bounty.
Line count: 8
Free verse
For Express It In Eight, 10.01.22
Prompt: Four words from poem, September Tomatoes, by Karina Borowicz.
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