Just down the road is a house where an old woman lives. Usually a plastic bag hangs on the outside of the door. Someone leaves it for her and it always has a couple of pieces of fruit or vegetables in it. Today it contains two oranges and it’s swinging in the wind like a pair of giant testicles I imagine the front door cracking open, her thin white arm reaches out to grab that bag, she squeezes it and for a moment it reminds her of her dead husband resting in the ground, how she used to squeeze his balls when he was alive, when they were young.
Ha ...that was a surprise ending !
Goodness gracious great balls of fire .
Finding the humour in the little things .You conjured up the scene of this frail little Old lady really well .
Well done! It takes a good bit of courage and maturity to write a naughty wonderful bit of humor. Poetry, indeed. I wish I would have penned this gem.