Clouds gather
as we gather
cloudberries
the hidden
secret
precious patches
of fruit.
My wife
smiles
ripens
to my touch.
* * *
Finns treat cloudberries as precious...the sun made flesh. They have their own secret stashes in forests that they hope no one else will discover and go to elaborate lenghts and suberfuge to keep their stash secret. They glow in bottles as if they were captured sunlight.
My wife was becoming unknowingly pregnant and this too was our hidden secret soon to be revealed to us. The sun made flesh.
Wava is the Finnish for baba and I use to call her this 'cos I loved the way the sound caressed her and loved her like I did.
Dónall Dempsey
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/wava-baby/
