I continue to think about pomegranates, as I put the seeds on my oatmeal every morning. The tree in our garden has been producing fruit pretty steadily since September.
Wikipedia says, “In the Northern Hemisphere, the fruit is typically in season from September to February. In the Southern Hemisphere, the pomegranate is in season from March to May.” Perhaps because Rwanda is pretty much on the equator, we get both seasons.
Looking for poems about pomegranates, I found this stanza of a poem by Billy Collins. It has little to do with the fruit, but it’s funny.
Remember the 1340s? We were doing a dance called the Catapult.
You always wore brown, the color craze of the decade,
and I was draped in one of those capes that were popular,
the ones with unicorns and pomegranates in needlework.
Everyone would pause for beer and onions in the afternoon,
and at night we would play a game called “Find the Cow.”
Everything was hand-lettered then, not like today.
– Billy Collins, “Nostalgia“
The rest of the poem is at the link above.