blackberries

blackberries

too soon,

trapped in the burn of a late summer

there is nothing to fruit, just yet.

too soon,

the heat, holding autumn back,

impatient in the wings.

too soon,

for the wild, spilled juice of love,

to tint lips, and fingertips.

too soon,

to bow to a barren bramble,

hands torn in thorn.

too soon,

to say there will be no autumn return,

bursting with sweet hope.

too soon,

to give up and give in, to the nameless,

shapeless lonely fear, prowling within.