To Thank You For Blackberries
--for C.M.
Folded into the slurry
of my daily steel-cut oats,
each mouthful
is a burst of summer,
an August afternoon
sun-sweetened
with violet juices—
plucked and gathered
by the handful,
risking thorn-slash
and sticky webs,
the last of the season
staining my lips.
© T. Clear 2012
(To be honest, I was standing on the sidewalk
struggling to reach the berries growing
from the top of my neighbor's hedge.
I heard her call out "thief!" as she came
around the corner, laughing.
Then she offered me the use of her step-ladder,
thus facilitating all future theft [by me]
of her luscious berries.)
Luckily all of ours are chest hight, and have recently swelled a bit after a brief afternoon of rain. I shall be making my absolute favourite summer conserve; Bramble Jelly.
ReplyDeleteNice - I am enviously looking forward to blackberries - reminds me so much of picking them as a child.
ReplyDeleteThey are worth the stabs and cuts!
ReplyDeleteah, what a lovely poem, T.
ReplyDeletemy niece just made a most delicious peach and blueberry pie -- the best I've ever had, I believe. It's the last of summer, for sure.
what a good neighbor you have!
You've captured it beautifully. Spot on! A sensuous poem.
ReplyDelete