(Welcome to the world of poetry - rewrites are absolutely necessary. The next couple of entries will be rewrites of poems I've already posted. I'm sure you'll see more versions in the future).
Rewrite of Raspberries
My Earliest Memory
My earliest memory is picking raspberries.
Vines enveloped the fence
in a deep green net;
Fat, bubbly berries sprinkled
across the faded wood.
For hours I rolled them across my palms,
leaving tracks of crimson and vermilion.
I bit their waxy surfaces, pursed my lips
and twisted my tongue around the tart pulp.
I never actually liked raspberries,
but I imaged myself layered behind petticoats
and lace, picking berries in a garden
from centuries before.
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