I love this beautiful, enigmatic poem. I’m drawn to the images, clotted uncertainty and confidence as a coat of many colours. My heart wants to follow the vision with you.
Shy or evasive, each has a character. Now is blackberry time. Not only do they shift, they have thick thorns, too. But there’s nothing like filling buckets full of blackberries on an August afternoon.
I was so happy to beat the Robins and Cardinals to the blueberries this year. Now the blackberries are just beginning to ripen in my neighbor’s field. I’m so happy you liked these.
Strawberries
growing wild in the field
give themselves away by their white flowers;
yet they still hide successfully behind clover,
bright red peeking shyly through sweet green,
like June’s treasure scattered
at my feet.
Raspberries
are best eaten at dawn,
hanging as rubies amongst the thorns,
so pensive passersby on the path pause to pluck,
savoring such sweetness on the tongue,
tasting like joy distilled
by the sun.
Thank you @Myr for your insights, and more importantly, for your vision. 36,000 of us are grateful for what you have wrought. Thanks again, @Carlos Hazday for making this feature happen.
This poem took me with you on a journey to dark caverns and deep, reverberating tunnels. I feel an oppression, a confining closeness, until you open up the vision of the rose, and the flower with roots that grow around the stones to lift blossoms to the sky. I loved this.
I enjoyed this last installment of Malibu. You gave us deeper insight into both Cesar and Brett, as well as into Bryce and Zion. Ritch is getting more flesh on his character, too. Just because there won’t be any drug fueled orgies at the house doesn’t mean there might not be an adventure or two. It will be a great place for them.
You’re most welcome. I look forward to my occasional glimpses of my colleague’s dog. She’s really lovely. One day she will get her sniffs. In the meantime, I’ve been watching hummingbirds chase away the junk-food addict downy woodpeckers from their feeder. Thanks very much for reading, and for your comments.
Thanks for your response and taking time to read this. I’m sorry I took so long to reply; I apologize. The echoes of those eight minutes will sound for decades.
I’ve said it before: I love hanging out with the Dads. I’d be so lucky to take a guest room at the house in Malibu - I’ll even house sit while Chipper’s gone!
These purgatorial haiku reflect a lot of time spent thinking and considering. I’m struck by how many are quotable and interesting to ponder. And I’m very glad you’re okay.