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.

Advertisements
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

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.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.