the agarita berries do not waitthis year they are already everywhere
their cheerful yellow flowersannounce spring – sometimesbefore she is readythey wake up a tired landweary from abuse
but the berries do not knowthey grow because they growand only know how to growin the front circlein the backyardup and down the gravel roadall along the fence line
they grow because gravel roadsstill run through some partsof townbecause fences made of woodand barbed wire are still around
lines not meant to lastnot meant to be taken too seriouslydecorated by red berries amonggreyish green leaves formingstiff and spiky trinities
forgotten medicine hiddenamong the mesquitesmiling with bright berriessweet and tart as tiny apples
when this eveningwe eat themstraight from the bush
