{"id":2484,"date":"2006-08-08T19:36:25","date_gmt":"2006-08-09T02:36:25","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.kathrynpetroharper.com\/mindfullife\/?p=2484"},"modified":"2026-01-21T16:43:06","modified_gmt":"2026-01-22T00:43:06","slug":"still-life","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.kathrynpetroharper.com\/mindfullife\/2006\/08\/08\/still-life\/","title":{"rendered":"Still Life"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><strong>Still Life<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>Two weary oranges sit in a cracked<br \/>\nwooden bowl. In California there<br \/>\nis always a navel to contemplate,<br \/>\nbut I have abandoned these dimpled globes<br \/>\nfor sexier fruit.<\/p>\n<p>They have company. Three bananas<br \/>\nlean against the curved belly<br \/>\nof the bowl, their sunny skins thinning<br \/>\ninto a melanoma of ripeness.<br \/>\nThe air is sweet with ruination.<\/p>\n<p>In the rotting fruit, decadence born<br \/>\nof carelessness and disconnection. Looking<br \/>\ncloser, the brown hands that cut, plucked,<br \/>\nsorted and packed, worked<br \/>\nmany hours for few dollars. Dusty hands,<br \/>\nscraped and cracked like the bowl.<br \/>\n&#8212;<br \/>\nThis poem is a result of an exercise suggested by <a href=\"http:\/\/immaculateconniption.blogspot.com\/2006\/08\/writing-exercise.html\">Jack Martin<\/a>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Still Life Two weary oranges sit in a cracked wooden bowl. In California there is always a navel to contemplate, but I have abandoned these dimpled globes for sexier fruit. They have company. Three bananas lean against the curved belly of the bowl, their sunny skins thinning into a melanoma of ripeness. The air is [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[218,28,215],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2484","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-aenigmas","category-humanities","category-poetry"],"post_mailing_queue_ids":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.kathrynpetroharper.com\/mindfullife\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2484","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.kathrynpetroharper.com\/mindfullife\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.kathrynpetroharper.com\/mindfullife\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.kathrynpetroharper.com\/mindfullife\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.kathrynpetroharper.com\/mindfullife\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2484"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.kathrynpetroharper.com\/mindfullife\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2484\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":10349,"href":"https:\/\/www.kathrynpetroharper.com\/mindfullife\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2484\/revisions\/10349"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.kathrynpetroharper.com\/mindfullife\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2484"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.kathrynpetroharper.com\/mindfullife\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2484"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.kathrynpetroharper.com\/mindfullife\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2484"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}