A dip in nightly temperatures and the first hard frost
trigger the dark green, waxy oval leaves
of the low-lying broadleaf evergreen shrub,
teaberry, to transform the hardwood forest floor
into an elegant burgundy gown adorned
with alabaster bell-shaped blossoms dangle and decorate
eastern North America for the wintry holidays.
Chilled breezes carry snowy confetti
replaced by light green beads, which mature
into lush scarlet berries, edible for humans
and wildlife: white-tailed deer nibble,
black bears chomp, wild turkeys peck,
and chipmunks munch.
Save some for me.
I don my parka, tote a basket, and traipse
into the woods to gather teaberry leaves and berries.
Upon my return to the kitchen, I seep leaves
for a cup of hot wintergreen tea, provides
soothing warmth, puree berries for jellies and jams,
savor the minty taste on homemade biscuits and toast.
I’m grateful for nature’s seasonal gift.
—
Suzanne Cottrell writes poetry, flash fiction, and creative nonfiction, which have appeared in numerous online and print journals and anthologies. She’s the author of three poetry chapbooks: Gifts of the Seasons, Autumn and Winter & Spring and Summer and Scarred Resilience and a hybrid book, Nature Calls Outside My Window, A Collection of Poems and Stories. She is an outdoor enthusiast and retired teacher, who enjoys reading, writing, knitting, hiking, yoga, and Pilates. www.suzanneswords.com.
