Blackberry Clafoutis

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A recipe I downloaded Flutters on my desktop. I keep thinking it’s a poem Posted there

With its luscious title: Blackberry irresistible surely Essence of My north’s high summer

Its punitive guarded Providence When one morning Is just imperceptibly

Cold enough to turn The gas-burning Pot-bellied stove on For an hour

Before I let Anne’s chickens out And open the barn Which smells sweet Of hay bales, horses

Bedding, and the berries We picked along Blazing Tree Lane Yesterday, arms, legs And mouths bloodied.

We stored them in the freezer Where they wouldn’t rot Before we made a clafoutis, That French pudding

Cherry-stuffed traditionally But cherries are ripe in spring And we are headed into winter Geese honking south, etc. . . .

You should eat it hot Directly from the oven, But it will still be good For breakfast, left over.