Unripe berries
cluster on the vine.
One is dark, but not dark enough,
a pinot, not a cab.
The others look creamy
white turning pale yellow
a few tinged pink
like a peace rose, my favorite:
they used to bloom
in my mother’s garden.
As a child, I was amazed
how soft yellow
would yield to pink,
not a transition a color
wheel might predict.

Yet everything everywhere
is tied together somehow.
These hard berries looking like
knobs on a dresser drawer
will soften in the sun.
Everything hard will yield.

Photo by Nancy Schoellkopf at Confluence Garden