Cascade Gold
by Michel O’Hara

Runestone, volume 10

              As another day
starts its forward spiral
she stands quietly
in the kitchen.
            On the counter
a plain paper box
holds the first yellow
raspberries of summer.
            And after
they’ve been rinsed
but before
putting them in a bowl
she notices traces of
red surfacing under
their thin layers of skin.
            Now water drains
and colors converge.
            She traces the color
green in her wrist
and feels the hammer
of hummingbird wings.
Feels the tidal pull of
gravity, how it could shatter
a moon. Her breath catches on
a question reverberating
through the center of her
palm where life and fate merge
then branch off at a mound
of scar tissue.
            Today,
she’ll write a letter and linger
over the word
sweetness, a berry dissolving
on her tongue. Sometimes,
it’s the husk of a wasp’s nest.
            Some days, it’s Mercury
tidal locked with the sun.