Stone Apple Soother

 

Apple or stone? I could never tell

What I knew was that it tasted like hell

Grandma's soother, a pungent peach

"With a sprinkle of black salt", she'd always preach

Neither sweet like apple nor hard like a stone

neither soft like icecream nor crunchy like the cone

In summer it quenched parched parents grandparents all

Lips licking with relish not letting a drop fall

I see the thirst for bitterness now, I see its pungent sweet

Post-thirty, not flirty, and never thriving: awaiting a bittersweet treat.