Raspberries

I hung over the fence to get this envious picture of my neighbor's raspberries. But I'm starting something new. Instead of looking for pictures , I'm looking for illustrations for my rather large collection of poems. After all, I'm first a writer, and the quest for photos for their own sake has started to hang in the air like a room that needs to be cleaned. So here is the poem:

Raspberries

Hold the raspberry to your mouth, it is the color lips
would be in the amber aura of sunset,
nuzzle it like a horse tests an apple in your hand,
feel the soft hair that protects each drupelet
and catches dew at dawn, as the down on your cheek
directs a tear,

Take it on your tongue settling each bump
near a tastebud, drip a sauce of saliva
raise the berry to the roof of your mouth
where the rafters and joists mash
tender balloons of juice,
into sun-jelled concoction of summer