Raspberry Jam

When I stayed with you I noticed the stars
city lights had drowned in anonymity
choked with bland fingers.

There must be something real about it if all when life is made solid, woven out of air by light
posted to your garden where the raspberries are just gaining colour.

Summer, you know it Englishman
the drone of a lawnmower far off
and a train once an hour stops in the village.
The sun dries earth on your hands you
close against your chest as there's a leap
and a wildness you gather with the
berries and keep.

Even when the winter trespass
and your garden falls asleep
this taste is preserved