Raspberry

2015-10-01

Almost October, and there it was,
draped over the fence,
ripe as July, and as seductive—
a stranger’s bit of paradise.
It wasn’t mine. Perhaps
I should have left it there,
flashing like a cardinal
in the autumn light.
But, still, the world offers itself so lavishly, as if
it will not be refused.
Sometimes I call this “grace.”
Sometimes I simply taste it
as a perfect raspberry, out of season,
savored seed by seed,
Persephone’s fruit.

From Bread and Other Miracles, poetry by Lynn Ungar, published in 2012, and available at www.lynnungar.com or through Amazon or Barnes and Noble online.