Tasting

The raspberries are smaller here
so close to tree line. Not the plump
red juicy globes you find in plastic
half pints in the store. Eat one,
and sometimes, one’s enough, its taste
the door to autumn, and there’s some
wild pleasure in its singleness—
it’s like the sense of worth that comes
when given just one sip of water,
given just one kiss, just one
forever, small and infinite.

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