Helen Dunmore - Wild Strawberries lyrics

What I get, I bring home to you: a dark handful, sweet-edged, dissolving in one mouthful. I bother to bring them for you though they're so quickly over, pulpless, sliding to juice a grainy rub on the tongue and the taste's gone. If you remember we were in the woods at wild strawberry-time and I was making a basket of dock-leaves to hold what you'd picked, but the cold leaves unplaited themselves and slid apart, and again unplaited themselves until I gave up and ate wild strawberries out of your hands for sweetness. I licked at your palm: the little salt-edge there, the tang of money you'd handled. As we stayed in the woods, hidden, we heard the sound system below us calling the winners at Chepstow, faint as the breeze turned. The sun came out on us, the shade blotches went hazel: we heard names bubble like stock-doves over the woods as jockeys in stained silks gentled those sweat-dark, shuddering horses down to the walk.