Louise Holmes
Blackberries
Where larkspur grows and poison ivy rambles,
I saw your silhouette against the sky.
I saw you bend to free your skirt from
brambles.
I saw him hold you, hug you, lift you high.
All day I told myself it wasn’t you,
That I would find you sitting by the fire,
Waiting for me, as you always do,
Welcoming, but empty of desire.
What words you said, I scarcely can remember -
Only the juice that blurred your parted lips,
Cheeks that burned as bright as any ember,
Blackened toes - and purple fingertips,
Raised too late to wipe away the truth
That left small bruises round your swollen
mouth.
Page(s) 18
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