Bittersweet
They don’t really come
into their own until
everything else is past its prime
starting modestly enough
in pairs with one flowering
the other responding with
pale small berries
unassuming they blend in
with spring and summer bushes
stealing no one’s thunder
even as fall foliage
paints the woods in vivid hues
the berries turn a modest gold
playing a supportive role
after the trees shed
their colours all around
they step into the spotlight
against dark bare branches
the berries light tiny fires for solstice
capturing the sweet memory of sun
through the bitter winter
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