my jerusalem
my newfoundland
juicy as redcurrants
with their sweet tang taste
my desire
my holy requirement
caught in a cleft of mountain
ever clambered towards
my yearning
my place of the blood-red fruit
my want at the first sherd
for the full-bosomed bowl
my jerusalem
my sinewy prayer
where dust and the dry rock
are chastened by the cool red juice
my jerusalem
my revolving love
as the year bends and the fruit's
pangs purchase my lips
