mouthing the forest
to feel at home
I put the forest on my tongue
little sweet safe bits
to bring the scent of sap and duff
right into my mouth
wintergreen leaves
sparked with living magic
cool, sharp, energizing
sassafras stems
the rich root beer taste of cozy mitten leaves
chewing the petiole flat
while the long blade hangs out my mouth
giving me the feel of a deer
Indian paintbrush corollas
drawing spring green from a fiery red throat
testing the base for the quench of nectar
in summer heat
wild strawberries
anywhere, anytime
little dabs of garnet lusciousness
never abundant enough to overdo it
honeysuckle (in town)
pulling the pink and yellow tube
from the green calyx
sucking sweetness through
raspberries
hands stained red
pulling off a few here and there along the trail
rolling the stuck seeds around my mouth later
chokecherry
best when they’re wizened
left hanging so long the acid’s been baked or frozen out
a dark purple deep old-time sugary taste
blueberries, crowberries, salmonberries, flower petals (some)
spruce sap
it sat bubbled on the bark
four small crystal balls
reflecting my own place in the world back to me
at a time when divination is a godsend
I gently pressed one, then brought my finger to tongue
and it exploded with spruce essence
opening my sinuses
and making me feel satiated
while also fueling a new hunger
giving a taste to something missing
or at least in too-short supply in my current day-to-day
it was like the day
my collarbones grew warm
or a kiss introduced me to the smooth inside of my lower lip
or my left foot first stood firm on the ground
unforgettable and exciting
leaving me wanting more
while also feeling amazed
at how sharp life can be
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