No need, these days,
when freezers heave
with tubs of glassy fruits
but something primal still propels us
down barbarous country lanes
basket in hand.
Discarding gloves, we offer blood
sacrifice in exchange for this
rich blistered berried abundance.,
Mouths seeping juice, baskets filled
to the brim, we bring them home
to be boiled, pulped, preserved
for colder days
when we will unfrock
each pot of its lacy frill
and release the genie of summer.