homeward go with knapsack yield


Gloved hands hold cold handlebars,

low sun pattern plays with spokes,

I slowly cycle, over-taken by cars.


Berry bunches blown off branches,

hazelnut husks clog road gutter,

pigeons wire-balance, taking chances.


I dismount after thirty minute cycle,

background traffic sonic insistent,

laneway birds sing morning recital.


dew on long verge-grass lingers

bramble snags yoke-coloured scarf

thorns puncture ungloved fingers.


I text foraging photo-shot,

close-focus, berry stretched hand:

rapturous, instant reply got.


tin-pot bell tolls faith over fields,

three-box-full, hedgerow fruit –

homeward go with knapsack yield.




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