Country Cellar -Elizabeth Brewster Down          Down                  Down                          the steps To the dark cellar Damp and ground smelling Cool in the heat of midsummer Where the cream sits in cans And in the wooden shelves along the wall Are rows and rows of jam jars Full of the dark red Sugar sweet Preserved berries. I dreamed a dream In which my love grew sick From the taste of berries Because they tasted too much Of the earth.