And the blackberry still has its thorns
And the blackberry still leaves its stains
A dress damp and torn on the forest floor
Where nary a trace still remains
And the blackberry may have no memory of you
But I do And the wild apple still has its thorns
And the wild apple still has its blooms
But the flower that shows doth not smell like a rose
And no one can eat of its fruit
And the wild apple may have no memory of you
But I do
I viewed this garden from a distance
Especially in the flower of spring
Not knowing of nature’s insistence
Not knowing the honey for its sting
And the rose is a barrier of thorns
After the petals have drooped
And the staggering years with their own barren fears
And the rose hips double-edged truth
For these roses may have no memory of you
But I do
I followed your trail in dream-time
Though the footprints were long filled with sand
I swore not to walk on that shore any more
Too much wreckage awash on that strand
But that’s me all alone on the shore
With the flowers instead of a sword
Tempting the fates and the same hurricane
To strike twice where memory is stored
For the storm may have no memory of you
But I do