Cranberry Harvest

Cranberry Harvest

The golden leaves crunch under my feet
As I watch the seven harvest machines dance
Across the cranberry field in choreographed formation.

The thick black rain clouds are blown by fierce winds
Allowing the bright sun to make an appearance.
The heavy fragrance of fall foliage is in the air.

The small, tart, red berries pop up
To float on flooded fields…..
The great cranberry harvest has begun!
Copyright © | Year Posted 2019

Poem

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Wolves Avatar
January 22, 2020 at 7:39 AM
I love cranberries...
Lehman Avatar
January 22, 2020 at 8:04 AM
Haha, don’t we all! I have them on my porridge every morning
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