Friday, October 10, 2014

NMF Day the Tenth

Poetry this time. It's the weekend, so this one will be brief.


In the child's hands, a berry.
ripered raspberry,
that deep red color they get just before they turn from sweetperfect to
Cradled in that carefulprecious way a child holds a treasure.
Cradled the way a child holds something

Then after.

The image in my head
Cradled in that carefulprecious way
the mind holds a treasure

Still life
With pavement, broken raspberry, and no child.
The fruit broken under its own weight on slick asphalt
Deep red bleeds out
Stains my fingers as I scoop some up

Not even noticing that it is delicious
So sweet
And so cold.

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