I fear them furred
or slashed by little birds
blackberries shining glibly in the hedge
some hard and red
some almost dripping purple smears
I choose my berry carefully
afraid
to eat a tiny spider
scared to taste
what might escape the washings of the rain
might be snarled behind a thorn
in the end it’s neither sweet nor bitter
just seedy water sacs
and oddly warm
Latest posts by Rose Segal (see all)
- Hoar Frost - 3rd December 2021
- Blackberries - 5th September 2021