Blackberry Jam

Artwork by Silvia Gaudenzi

Blackberry Jam

Part I

No. I am not a human being. I am an aging fairy.

Flitting about, this way and that.

Going absolutely nowhere, but being everywhere all at once.

You asked me how I was doing, over eggs and toast.

With a side of blackberry jam.

I took a swig of my just cooled chai, with milk, and too much ginger.

And gulped. You looked into my eyes.

I tried so hard not to jump out of my skin.

I am light years aware, and yet right here with you.

Bones. And flesh. In front of your eyes. You see me.

Whether you realize it or not.

I flitted about, about how great blackberry jam is in dessert bars.

And somehow ended up on memories of apple picking with my grandparents.

They are long gone now. But the aroma of cinnamon spiced apple cobbler is still right here.

It was the sweetest thing I’d ever eaten.

The aftertaste, a bit bitter. Rather odd.

Somehow everything still sticks to me.

Even though,

I am always.

Flying.

Away.

Your gaze is still here. Resting.

While I am so far away.

I am light years aware, and yet right here with you.

Bones. And flesh. In front of your eyes. You see me.

And whether you realize it or not.

I do see you too.

Part II

There were a million birds

Outside my window

Transfixed as if frozen

In the vacant field, across the way.

Where did they go?

Migrating. For the winter,

You. Out back. Frost proofing the garden, for the winter.

Overhead, the sky cracks with the thunderous sound of birds.

As activities for this time of year often go.

Im studying the fairy lights lining the inside of the kitchen window,

Wondering if there is a more thorough way

To prevent the ground from becoming too frozen.

I am storing blackberry jam in plastic baggies to prepare to be frozen

For safe keeping throughout the winter,

In a deep, deep freezer under the basement stairs, out of the way.

A migration of sorts, like the birds.

I yell to you through the lit, closed kitchen window,

“Where did the last bit of summer go!”

I can see the wheels of your mind, screech to a halt, a refusal to go.

Gloved hands gripping a bag of mulch, you stood frozen.

I saw the fret in your eyes even through the now foggy kitchen window,

At the impending ominous threat of winter.

Without the sweet escape afforded to the birds,

For you and me, there is just one way.

This destined journey is the only way.

So many routes and passages for us to pass through and go.

The callous act of flight can stay with the birds.

I can release what was once frozen

What was once my own personal winter.

I can watch it as it sputters and haplessly flies out the window.

I can see the lines of your face, directly through the open kitchen window.

The distance from me to you is really not so far a way.

You yell, back to me, “Don’t you ask me that every winter!

Please write it down. Where does your memory go?”

With no sound, you mouth, “Eventually, this will be cemented, as if frozen”.

I saw a glint in your eye as your head fell back, face upward, transfixed on the birds.

If I could burst through this window to get to you, I would go

Fly to the moon and back all the way, knowing you’d again melt what was frozen.

Summer’s provisions kept safe throughout the winter, awaiting the perpetual return of the birds.

Part III

The ripest berry

Quenches the most intense thirsts

Of requited care.

Part IV

A monstrous pack of deranged horses

Speed past me like light in the sky

While my weakened heart remorses.

A memory of someone that wasn’t you

Plagues the new ones we’re to make.

It muddies the well water, dries out the soil,

And despite everything you give, it makes sure to take.

Jars of blackberry jam yanked off the shelves, and shattered onto the floor.

Carefully preserved and yet gone to waste,

Bent over and kneeling as if in lament

You still lift fingers to mouth determined to taste.

Your back will get weary and your fingers, cut.

What is it, you can possibly see?

In those shards of glass that are left of me?