Broom time
in late July
has bees
resting on
thorns, teeth
ready to tear
any invader.
My hands
sweep to
find swollen
blackberries
so vocal
they cry out
as my wrist
opens, swift
sacrifice as
roots dive
silently below.
End-of-August Misgivings of the Old Woman Jealous of the First Grader’s New School Shoes the sign down the road – do not pick blackberries – yellow jackets our final peach pie pits and skins swarming with flies a sketch of bird song in a failing tree broken fence railings dry foxglove seed silent rocks in […]
Read more "End-of-August Misgivings of the Old Woman Jealous of the First Grader’s New School Shoes"I am working on my MFA creative nonfiction thesis about food foraging. I asked my father to talk about my first experiences with wild food. One of my pleasures was taking Lauren out in the backpack, walking quite long distances, and she loved to ride in the backpack. I learned to stop and grab berries […]
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