the agarita berries do not wait
this year they are already everywhere
their cheerful yellow flowers
announce spring – sometimes
before she is ready
they wake up a tired land
weary from abuse
but the berries do not know
they grow because they grow
and only know how to grow
in the front circle
in the backyard
up and down the gravel road
all along the fence line
they grow because gravel roads
still run through some parts
of town
because fences made of wood
and barbed wire are still around
lines not meant to last
not meant to be taken too seriously
decorated by red berries among
greyish green leaves forming
stiff and spiky trinities
forgotten medicine hidden
among the mesquite
smiling with bright berries
sweet and tart as tiny apples
when this evening
we eat them
straight from the bush
