On Foraging

The norm is from hedgerows,
chestnuts prised from pointy coffins,
sloes to sharpen gin; blackberries
which ink the skin
before they flavour-stain your toast.
Or grovel on the ground
for ramsons, dandelions, sorrel –
salads to live by.
But you can also snaffle falafel
from a working lunch buffet,
cram napkins with curling sandwiches;
rehome biscuits from the b and b.
Treat the hospitality tray
as a banquet to store for leaner days.

Hannah Stone has two collections published, Lodestone (2016) and Missing Miles (2017). She convenes the poets-composers forum for the international Leeds Lieder Festival and co-edits the poetry ezine Algebra Of Owls. In other lives she grows her own food, enjoys hill walking, and is managed by two cats.

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One Response to On Foraging

  1. Colin Hill says:

    Staying in US motels I soon became adept at foraging the breakfast bar for things to eat on the next leg of my travels. And living in the UK countryside I can also relate to the traditional forms of foraging too. Excellent poem.

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