tasting preserves

it’s last summer’s sweet jam.
the jar is officially half empty.
if you’re wondering – over there
is the evidence of guilty pleasures.

item: one slathered spoon; item: a
slash of red; item: cheap bakery
bread.  to one side: soggy black
tea bags; steam rising from
an old stained cup with one chip.

close your eyes. taste a raspberry
sun. stand perfectly still by the
clouded window, watch sparrows
quarrel over heel-end crumbs.

with luck and illiberality, they claim
spring will come back around again,
on the very day you scrape
the last sticky bite from the jar.