Chapter 1: Blackberry Tea and Jam
There were more rabbits than blackberries, which is how I came to be in this hole.
There, where there were more rabbits than reason, there where baubles of berries
hung more purple than black, there amongst long tasselled briars ‘n talon-claw thorns.
And there, me, holding a plastic pail swollen with blackberries.
Me, stepping on ankle-snapping, leg-biting, sock-snagging vines.
Me, tip-toeing and tripping … a foot down a hole, my pail spilling
and head splitting. All this for a few jars of blackberry jam…
“Well done. Your foot’s in my door. ” said Br’er Rabbit,
“I don’t suppose you’ll be here long enough to want blackberry tea?”
“Yes, please, tea with one spoon of jam,” said I, and where am I?”
Br’er Rabbit poured, spooned jam and stirred whilst studying my foot.
“The Klingons call it Klach d’Kel Brakt, Sector 441. “
I sipped and asked, “Oh. And that means?”
Br’er Rabbit flushed with dispair, “Briar patch! It means briar patch!” he said,
and then dashed away into thickets of green, just in case my foot through
his door be soon joined by my other.
… and then I woke surrounded by rabbits….
We Write Poems, Cultural Shock – This poem is based on a prompt that requires you put a character into an unfamiliar circumstance or location such as … “What you see and what you hear depends a great deal on where you are standing. It also depends on what sort of person you are.” – C.S. Lewis