Pocket Full of Strawberries
I remember those days
Stifling heat
Scorching our hides
How we ached for relief
Shade of an Evergreen tree
Sparse of needles
Long-legged Snipes
Wilting in the afternoon sun
Just like us
Earth so dry
Even grass could hardly grow
Grasshoppers
Surrounding each and every step
The chirp and hiss of thousands
Katydids chiming in
We did what we were told to do
"Stay outside and play!"
With what?
The dust?
The dirt?
Crawling and scratching about
Where boredom reigns
Seeking refuge
Inside the bones of the house
Damp and cool
Scented sweet with mold
Into the grey
Crawl space
Old tea cups and love letters
School books and little dolls
With scarred eyes and patchy hair
Most days we were outside
The adults got to talk and sit
Blinds drawn to keep out the heat
What whispers
Lay hidden inside those walls
Suffering heat
We walked forever it seemed
In search of something...
Anything
Flushed and with thirst
And there in dust and dirt
A tiny pearl of crimson
Smaller than a garden pea
We'd taste the first
So fragrant and sweet
Explosive on our tongues
How carefully we'd collect
The tiny remnants
Scrounging around, on bare knees
Elbows resting in the gravel
Pocking our flesh
Filling our palms
Lining our pockets
Late afternoon, a scramble
Such pride in our bounty
Gramma always had scrap of dough
Little tarts for each of us
Pastry dry and crumbly
Saved by the sweetness of the berries
Triumph
Of our day
Copyright © Sharilee Parcher | Year Posted 2021
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