Edwin Morgan turned 90 last week so I'll just leave you with this for now...
Strawberries
There were never strawberries
like the ones we had
that sultry afternoon
sitting on the step
of the open french window
facing each other
your knees held in mine
the blue plates in our laps
the strawberries glistening
in the hot sunlight
we dipped them in sugar
looking at each other
not hurrying the feast
for one to come
the empty plates laid on the stone together
with the two forks crossed
and I bent towards you
sweet in that air
in my arms
abandoned like a child
from your eager mouth
the taste of strawberries
in my memory
lean back again
let me love you
let the sun beat
on our forgetfulness
one hour of all
the heat intense
and summer lightning
on the Kilpatrick hills
let the storm wash the plates
(from New Selected Poems, Manchester: Carcanet Press, 2000)
Tuesday 4 May 2010
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1 comment:
What a beautiful, wonderful poem, i am going to print - no write it out - and pin it somewhere. I will go and buy strawberries today and think of Edwin and you. Good start to the day xxx
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