Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash. Leonard Cohen

Friday, July 1, 2011

The Zen of Strawberries

image source
She goes to the strawberry fields to be free
Head down   back bent   hot sun   sandy soil
Toenails painted in bright sloppy berry juice
The world is bright red candy on green vines
And hers to put in a bucket

Playing hide and seek with the berries
Searching for the reddest  ripest 
Look! Here's one meant for a magazine cover shot!
And here's one so big it looks pregnant!
This one looks like a drunk's nose!
And these are conjoined twins!

She picks more berries than she can ever eat
Or make into pies or jam
But the picking's the thing
She tells herself that when she has a daughter
She will bring her to the strawberry fields
And she does
But her daughter just complains
Of the heat and the bees
Perhaps she is just too young to understand
The beauty of an afternoon

submitted for Thursday Think Tank 55, Freedom, at Poets United


Mama Zen said...

I related to this on so many levels. My garden is my space to be free.

Fireblossom said...

Oh, ain't it the truth about the young one. Sometimes the thing I was sure would be a hit, turned out not to be.

Loved the drunk's nose!

Brian Miller said...

an afternoon free...that is a beautiful thing...i remember going to the picking fields with my mom to get vegetables...never picked strawberries....

Christine said...

They complain now, but the memories sweeten over time. A delicious piece of writing.

Anna :o] said...

Brings back memories of childhood - although of pea-picking. 2s.6d a box. Although it took nearly a full day to fill that box (as a little thing)- oh what 2s.6d could buy!

Anna :o]

Jingle said...

love strawberries.
juicy, sweet, and fresh.

Reflections said...

Given time... those strawberry fields will one day look like the best buffet around for the soul.

Mynx said...

One day her daughter will understand the importance of time on your own

Everyday Goddess said...

this is really great, so i gave you one of my weekly goddess awards that you can collect at my place if you like.
happy blogging!

darev2005 said...

It's a shame that wisdom is wasted on the young. It's not until years later usually that they stop and think "Oh! So that's what she meant!"

Rachel Hoyt said...

Mmmmmm... :) Your words are delicious... like strawberries! I've never picked my own, but I sure know how to eat them. I think that even if your daughter doesn't get it now, she will figure it out later when looking back on the day fondly.

That gentleman's lady said...

Pregnant strawberry :)

Ella said...

aaah, I can feel the juice run down my chin :D
Well done; yes I love the pregnant strawberry...great imagery!

Bryan M. White said...

The strawberry fields are nice. I could stay there forever. Hehehe.

Kay said...

I love this poem! It reminds me so much of the book, Snow Falling on Cedars and how their entire life was centered around strawberry picking. It's really incredible how reading a poem can take one's mind on an adventure and each person's is never quite the same. Thank you!

dragonkatet said...

You have such great images in this! And some wisdom, too, I love it! :) Did you ever complain about the heat and the bees? I did (but it was raspberries, not strawberries). But then, as I got older, I came to appreciate the occasional 'afternoon free' just like you've penned here! This was a terrific write!