The blackthorn is flowering – “spring stars” – with the promise of many sloes this autumn. Strange to think of autumn now, when the spring has only just begun. But that is the nature of things.
Prunus spinosa
In a Blackthorn Spring
Even if I knew
Icelandic names for snow,
or spoke a thousand
densities of white,
from Queen Ann’s lace
to campion to ice
or melted glacial crystals
on my tongue
to sweat new words
they would not paint
this blossom held to blue:
spring stars
hatched from rapier boughs,
the bitter sloes of winter.
by Lynne Wycherley
