I found it in the dead of summer,
Beyond the dandelion patch,
Where the ancient birch hangs lowest
To the ground, where bees have built their nest -
As I stooped to part the leaves,
Unfurl the naked center
To pluck the berries from their bed –
That was before they bled,
Before the buzzing vanished
In the heavy August heat,
Long before the winds stilled
In the momentary thrill.

The crimson nectar dribbled
From the corners of my mouth,
Spilled over my tongue, across my lip
Onto my dirty fingertips.

The bucket empty, rusting
By the richly crimson bush
Watched my wicked hands dive, blindly
Tearing at the lush design,
No longer gentle-touching;
Where the leaves were turned aside
Another grove of sweetness lay
To be ushered away,
Crushed on the roof of my mouth,
Spilling its essence down my throat.
Crushed in the rust-bucket,
Painting the stage set
With a delicate crimson;
Painting with fine-feathered brushstrokes
In the contours of my palm
The tale of some unbidden calm.

          And there I froze.

Squatting by the silent bush,
Heartbeats pounding through the crushed grass,
I waited to fulfill my need -
I watched, I heard the berries bleed.

I am an undergraduate student at Princeton University. I have long been interested in the reading and writing of poetry, and have begun to take advantage of Princeton's fantastic creative writing program to further my writing. I welcome any feedback on my poetry, as it will only serve to improve my work.

Have comments you'd like to send the author? Please e-mail Sasha at: ashustef@princeton.edu or fill out the form below: