Sunday, January 21, 2024

heady taste by David Q. Hutcheson-Tipton

crabapples
were bitter
from the first bite,
but that
childhood tart—

like the taste
of mint or
parsley
filched from
the neighbor's
garden—

was the taste
of freedom,
autonomy,
a simple but
powerful start
to making your
own way
in the world,
heady

like the
scent of
lilac,

like the
stings of
bees you tried
to catch
in mason jars



David Q. Hutcheson-Tipton is a Denver-based poet and semi-retired physician. His poems have been curated in Unlost Journal, One Sentence Poems, and Mountains Talking.

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