Picking Blackberries


In that exciting time of adolescence,
Of lost youth and carefree exuberance,
Worlds away from despair and pain,
When goals were clear and rain was rain,
I remember a large tin pail
Ringing as we traveled the trail
That led our wandering feet
Towards the prize, so sweet..
Down past the Kudzu vines
That twist and curls around all entwines,
We shuffled along with watchful eyes
Towards the ground where the serpent lies.
Just past the briars void of fruit
To patches full of the black loot,
Cardboard we brought would provide
A platform to where the best berries hide.
The bucket filled up with the large and the small,
Ripe and unripe.we loved them all.
We'd return, snacking and walking slow,;
But there would be plenty, I'd know,
For Mom's great cobbler and pie.
I can still smell their essence, if I try.

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