poem · summer · thunderstorn

Wet Strawberries After Rain

Wet strawberries after rain
A smell I’ve missed
From Irish summers
As a country child

Wafts to me now
Post thunderstorm 
In a different land
Mingling memories

Of strawberry picking
At twelve and thirteen
With humid summers
Here in adulthood.

Neither summer ideal
But scented the same.
Some things will always
Remind me of  home.

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