A blackberry winter, cool and mild in May.
She again wears her navy blue hoodie,
Soft and warm, soothing her troubled heart.
She remembers picking blackberries as a girl,
Her little fingers stained with the purple juice,
Her arms and wrists pinpricked from the thorns.
A blackberry winter, when she was sixteen, so cool
On May Day, her first kiss from a gentle boy, passionate
About what the world could yet be.
So much older, the coolness of a spring day, without
The sweet treats that drew blood, or the hope of the
Future or the touch of a kind lover.
A blackberry winter, her hoodie is soft, warm, soothing.
She hopes she’ll find wonder again from what’s left,
That she’ll find one worthy of letting touch her face