Transitory Tastes

by Dara Mac Carthaigh--

 

 

Jam is fleeting

Fleeting like town lamplights in the morning

as night backs out

Fleeting like a ripened raspberry

after some mornings

pass by.

Honey is here for all seasons

as night follows night.

And the moon

which you

Like an urban dwelling fool)

urban dweller

do not follow

has changed itself

so many times:

It has

been

A wolf,

lapping water

A bear,

picnicking at midnight

A foxglove,

growing in its lair.

Honey has seen it all.

But jam is fleeting.