Our Lot
I think of pleasures that bubble,
stand out like the cardinal red orbs
perched on my oatmeal.
But these currants I picked yesterday
and savor now will have flown
from my memory tomorrow.
Just so the pleasures these berries
echo, bursting tart in their season,
but sadly, so sadly, not beyond.
9 thoughts on "Our Lot"
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Delicious in more ways than one.
The double meaning of the title is a bonus.
I love how the “cardinal red orbs” are “perched”–and how the currants fly. This is delightful, Nancy. I could taste it.
I echo Kevin on the title! Delicious poem, Nancy. You got my mouth watering for currants. We used to grow them and have to fight the birds for the ripe ones.
Oh i love this one, thanks for writing and sharing this.
I am currently trying to beat the birds to thw blackberries 🙂
Lol I guess sharing is caring Lol
“cardinal red orbs
perched on my oatmeal.”
Beautifully written!
So good. It’s what makes the season special
A beautiful testament to the simple things that bring us pleasure, memory and time. Great images.
Agreed, delicious on every level.
The image of the cardinal-red currants, bursting tart on your oatmeal, is so vivid.