a lingering tang from dry cane

the vines have grown

among clusters of tight green berries
some have swollen past blush
and into rouge

the two we tasted today
left a tang-on-tongue reminder
of something come
from nothing
when you planted dry canes
all of a season ago

the scraps of garden
here and there
embrace brick-solid fence lines
softened with corn stalks
as yet un-bearded

bush peas and broad beans
have come and gone
tomatoes are in flower
and all in all
our vista would look well
on a pastoral postcard

and inside
our hearts are on display
upon the walls

in paint and craft
we are declared
the minutiae of two
drawn large

there is warmth in each nook
house-into-home embodiment
of the comfort of our lives
as we stand
on the threshold of departure

each aspect
when it catches the eye
prompts pause
and reflection

wistful regret

perhaps
in another season
someone after us
will cherish the lingering tang
of raspberries you grew
from dry cane


© Frank Prem, 2007

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6 thoughts on “a lingering tang from dry cane

  1. in paint and craft
    we are declared
    the minutiae of two
    drawn large

    I was so drawn in by this stanza – it holds such power and almost a wistfulness – I suspect it’s the word “minutiae” – so seldom used – followed shortly by “drawn large” …. what an incredible juxtaposition – so well crafted Frank – this whole poem is such a lingering pleasure to read and savour.

    Liked by 1 person

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