He must go off the path
and risk sharp prickles
to pluck a wild pink rose for me.
I place it in a juice glass
on the kitchen counter where
it puts forth a rosy aroma
each morning as I start the coffee.
When the petals begin to drop
he finds me another one.

When the wild blackberries
ripen at Haw Ridge,he again
ventures off the trail
and fights chiggers and thorns
to pick as many berries
as he can carry in his pockets
to bring me a taste of the wild.

He brings home hand-painted rocks
left by strangers to bring cheer,
foliose lichen on a twig,
quince fruit with its heady aroma,
and a carefully carried cicada shell.

When he does not find anything
to carry home, he takes pictures,
a blue heron flying over the creek,
a field of yellow daisies,
white mushrooms on an old log,
the snake that surprised him  
as it slithered across his path.

Something delightful throughout
the seasons, gifts from nature
to brighten our days
during the pandemic year


© by Melanie Harless.
Used with the author's permission.