Chalet of Ghosts

An ekphrastic poem

photo by Bobby Kulik, used with permission

When the raspberries are ripe
That’s how you know the change
Is coming
Heavy on the tongue
Bits of juice, evidence on your chin
Before the rain has time
To wash away
A promise
Made solemn
As your dad’s boots track
Molded mud and swollen red
Swift through the patchwork