A shock of red
Amid a patch of
wide green leaves
I reached down in
To pluck the fruit
I’d seen
Felt the clammy mound
On my fingertip
My hand recoiled
But I gritted my teeth
And flicked the ginger-brown
spoiler
Down on the rocks
Where it oozed
a mustard trail
As it slithered
Away
And disappeared beneath
The gravel.