brambles

By Di_Hard
- 1028 reads
blackberries, swollen seconds full of sun
I pick, to burst sweet on my tongue, now and
now. In overgrown long disused school ground
brambles slow arc where once children's voices
climbed between high walls. Holding a year's turn
gems cluster, red to black, out thrust choices
rooted in old graveyards, familiy names
running through this town's buildings' rise and fall
as Autumn wreaths.. Fresh faces blossom, match
those in museum's faded photos, catch
the same hope looking out. How many leave -
bright berries bird borne, land and soon shoot tall
while far off plants send their fruits here, to weave
new stems, where next spring's birds will sing their claims ?
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Comments
Those branches do weave out
Those branches do weave out to tangle and trip don't they? But yes, a lovely autumn wreath. We have had an abundant supply of large juicy ones just down a 'twitten' from the end of our little lane, sprouting out from behind the buildings of an Accident and Repari garage. They are nearly over now, and the council has just cut back those over one of the paths which had got almost impassible to cyclists I think! I have managed to freeze a few little packets for winter crumbles.
You could mark this as IP (Autumn) if you wanted to. Rhiannon
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Just reading this gorgous
Just reading this gorgous poem Di reminds me of Autumn...as you know my favourite time of year.
I like how you write as if each thought and recollection has become a patchwork quilt of lovlness.
Really enjoyed reading this one.
Jenny.
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