That time of year when the ground is stained with mulberry juice. If you
are lucky, smart and quick so are your lips.
Trees ripe with dark, rich fruit are dropping it to the concrete for every
passer-by to add to the frantic patterns emerging below. I’ve never seen a
mulberry tree outside a city, but perhaps without the stain on the sidewlk
I’ve just passed them by oblivous to the treats overhead.