First published in Kosmos Journal in 2018
“The nourishment of Cezanne’s awkward apples is in the tenderness and alertness they awaken inside us.”
― Jane Hirshfield
A small scratched hand is pulling ripe, red currants from a bush, plucking generational knowing, while the child is chitter-chattering in the warm evening air, gritting the nutty seeds between molars, brushing an ant off a sunburnt elbow. The bucket is full to the brim with berries the neighbors did not want. Tomorrow morning, these berries will go on yogurt.