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Hidden Hearts
by Amanda ConlogueI spent the first warming blush
Of spring in a squat amongst
Tart-ripe strawberries hidden
Beneath lush-grown leaves
My hands stained pink by
Sun-sweetened juice dripping
Down the inside of my wrist
And spidery blue veins to
The pulse inside my elbow
Strawberry seeds burrowed beneath
My nails, I itched and ached
From being bend awkwardly
Shuffling sideways, crab-walk
As I gathered my bounty
A basket of hearts, red-ripe
For consumption, I stood
Pressed my hands to my back
For a lengthy stretch, lifting
My eyes for a squint at the sun
To gage the passage of time
I dreamt of going home to you
And sharing my harvest
The stickiness on my lips
Begged for your tongue to taste
I blinked away the sun
Started my way home through
Planted rows of hidden hearts
All for your consumption.
11/29/1999 Posted on 01/16/2003
Copyright © 2024 Amanda Conlogue
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by David R Spellman on 01/17/03 at 11:32 PM This is a real interesting and well done look at the strawberry harvest with the use of some great images. I was right there in stretching my back after crouching for so long to pick the fruit. Very well done. |
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