Magical flavor.
With neither butter nor scotch.
Childhood memory.
***
Pierce the skin, juice bursts,
smelling of earth and sunshine.
Taste now lost to time.
***
Scratchy thorns protect
blackberries from tiny hands.
But Pop saves the day.
******************
Exhausting day at work, so three memories: butterscotch, tomatoes stolen from the garden, picking blackberries with my grandfather. Pathetic, but determined not to miss a day.
