It’s a free symphony of ripe blackberries,
juicy stains segue from berry to inside
of frowzy Safeway bags. Outside,
she sports juice-red thumbs; bright
with blood from the crown of thorns.
It's time for the fugue: melody of fruit,
harmony of sugar, counterpoint
of pectin, grace notes of berry bits,
nibbled during rests. To the end,
she carries the business: boiling the
mason jars to cleanliness; listening
sharp for the tink! of a good seal.
And now, finale: Hot sweet scents
rise and soar, where she conducts
the fresh hot jars from the pot
to the end. She sweats and smiles,
bows to an imaginary audience,
licks her fingertips, allegro, presto.
This work is her cross, it is her choice.
juicy stains segue from berry to inside
of frowzy Safeway bags. Outside,
she sports juice-red thumbs; bright
with blood from the crown of thorns.
It's time for the fugue: melody of fruit,
harmony of sugar, counterpoint
of pectin, grace notes of berry bits,
nibbled during rests. To the end,
she carries the business: boiling the
mason jars to cleanliness; listening
sharp for the tink! of a good seal.
And now, finale: Hot sweet scents
rise and soar, where she conducts
the fresh hot jars from the pot
to the end. She sweats and smiles,
bows to an imaginary audience,
licks her fingertips, allegro, presto.
This work is her cross, it is her choice.
