for Jennifer
Blackberries blooming late,
wild, tucked in thorned beds,
a flower for a throne, fruit
evolving colours: green,
rose, red, black;
a fruit which is many,
a face each drupelet.
Summer’s ending, thus
much longer shadows are being cast,
grapes and longing are being harvested,
reduced into wine.
Two blackberries are now jam;
sugar was added and they were boiled,
mixed first with other berries,
the right consistency was reached,
screwed was a jar lid,
and a hand painted cupboard
gathers dust, a daydream,
a kitchen door left ajar.
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photo by Sage Ross,
admin on Wikimedia Commons
