A POEM A DAY - WILD FENNEL



At this time of year the browning countryside is greened with the tall, spindly stems of wild fennel. I brush the flower heads as I walk by, releasing the smell of liquorice. Like the older Spanish farmers I snap off a stick of the woody stem and chew it as I walk. The taste whirls me back in time to childhood and the pursed lip taste of inky sweets. I am still unsure if I really like it. 




© 2019 Jacqueline Knight Cotterill.  All rights reserved. 


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