Berries Kevin Lynch

I remember
days of summer heat

the steam roller

riding the terrace
to and fro
resin skinning up the road
ghosts and smoke

my lungs
innocent and lovely
a jar of startled bees
heavy with nectar

I looked as we entered
the plots
of blue ones and red ones
razzies
the slumber of
black ones

so beautiful and born

a compass of berries

once picked

no stranger
to blood

first published in “a fist full of firefly”