Black Currants

Sour dough bread slathered black current jam
from last summers loaded bushes
harvested,   washed,  made into jam when the idea
that there would not be flour in the grocery
store every time we went was an absurdity.

a bicycle ride with a friend, six feet apart
and we so fortunate to
have trails almost empty, and spring
peepers to welcome us in the marshy
corner gravel trail crunchy  stop
as bullfrogs call    notice

pussy willows, forsythia budding
forth    cardinals  chickadees
dance before me, spirit
companions on my journey
life on this planet,  present always

dinner offers stew rich with wonder of
tomatoes found in the depth of our deep
freeze, cleaned in these days, awaiting
spring saps offering, summer harvest,
soon there will be more currants
hopes gift today.

gloriafern April 6, 2020