Day 7: wild garlic over a camp fire

Walk to the riches

Can you smell it before you can see?

Choose far from the path

The dogs will piss where they want

And humans kick muck onto the wildness

Picking the leaves

The juices smear onto fingers

And there is no need to wash

Wash

Wash

This juice smells like garlic caught behind

A full-powered radiator

And the body is infused

Clutching the chunky bouquet

We each carry a meal

Out of the forest

And home to be mixed with

Lemon juice

Pine nuts

Olive oil

Salt and

Tahini

The camp fire gets ferocious

The pots go on

As the heat rows the fiery smell subsides

As if there is no more need for it in the air

But once it’s inside us

The power of the plant does what is does

Warm and well from within

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