Berry Stained
Eli McFarlane
She is far too young
For the deep lines
That laughter has etched into her face
They sketch the rough edges
Of everything
That’s meant to be remembered
The scent of the parched grass
That was the smell of home
The stinging scrapes on her hands
From the hours she spent
Filling old paint buckets
With bittersweet berries
Berries so hot they burst on her tongue
Still tasting vaguely of the soil
And dry wind
A crown of braided grasses in her tangled hair
She was queen of the prairie summer
She ruled her kingdom
From a throne of old truck tires
Under the relentless sun
That scorched everything
Except those tallow trees
And the thorny blackberry bushes
Even after the sunset blossomed over the cornfields
She stayed outside
18