portion of the artwork for Natalie Crick's poem

A Gift of Fruit
Natalie Crick

I am waiting in shadow.
Shy.
Close enough to touch

Round syrup-sweet berries,
Lush flushed strawberries,
Peaches bursting open

Mint bruised, perfumed for lips.

Hummingbirds gather,
Treacle oils of summer
Lingering on the tongue,

Splashes of crimson
Spilling over lingonberries,
Pooling amber juices.



Table of Contents | Return to Poem Directory



FRiGG: A Magazine of Fiction and Poetry | Issue 49 | Spring/Summer 2017