The Last Raspberry
I love the taste like nothing elseFull of sweet memories of my youth
Delicate deep red and so perishable
The subtle scent sends my senses reeling
But there is only one left
My eyes take it in
My fingers touch it gently
And I anticipate what it will be like
The time comes
The fruit explodes in my mouth
Precious juice floods over my tongue
Spreading that heavenly flavor to every bud
I concentrate hard
Savoring the singular sweet wonder
Trying to burn the flavor into my memory
The fleeting moment runs from me
The tartness on my tongue fades
How I want to enjoy more and more and more
But that was the last
The season has past
posted by wingman at 6:20 PM
2 Comments:
I am amazed. But there will be more to harvest. There may be famine for a time but there will one day come relief and bounty. This is a time to savour the fruit that was until a time for replenishment
Wow! What imagery. You are quite a writer. Perhaps the berries will be preserved so you can savor them when they aren't in season. Remember how the taste brings back all the memories of the fruit as it was freshly picked? It tastes just as good, only sweeter.
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