Helen Dunmore - Wild Strawberries

What I get, I bring home to you: 
a dark handful, sweet-edged, 
dissolving in one mouthful. 

I bother to bring them for you 
though they’re so quickly over, 
pulpless, sliding to juice 

a grainy rub on the tongue 
and the taste’s gone. If you remember 
we were in the woods at wild strawberry-time 

and I was making a basket of dock-leaves 
to hold what you’d picked, 
but the cold leaves unplaited themselves 

and slid apart, and again unplaited themselves 
until I gave up and ate wild strawberries 
out of yo...