Blackberry
So unwilling to be picked – a thicket
where the devil appears, each fist
somewhere he’s paused – his sweeter part.
Blackcurrant
Ambush – the wood
berry scented
as if it had captured a wince.
Black cherry
Spit stones, murmur
of the flesh in its canopy,
clatter to its heart.
Bramley
One touch, listen for the fall.
September resonates to thuds
as if the dry lawn might gape open.
Damson
Sheds bruises to last a year,
punches, bites, kicks – a tight harvest,
hard to separate from its stones.
Elderberry
Droops, a tasselled chandelier
anticipating winter’s rivers
months before they turn your mind to silt.
Gooseberry
Mouthfuls of pips
bulge among spikes in the shade.
No wonder it shelters foundlings, fools.
Raspberry
Fur soft, skin soft,
it grows among flint.
Pick, eat, until it stains the sky.
Rhubarb
Red-ribbed as a claw,
stretched, useless leaves,
its taste an accident.
Wild strawberry
Hunt it in woods dark with yew,
see how a single fruit cuts
through the evening, enough for a lifetime.
