Wednesday, April 21, 2010

To R



August by Mary Oliver

When the blackberries hang
swollen in the woods, in the brambles
nobody owns, I spend

all day among the high
branches, reaching
my ripped arms, thinking

of nothing, cramming
the black honey of summer
into my mouth; all day my body

accepts what it is. In the dark
creeks that run by there is
this thick paw of my life darting among

the black bells, the leaves; there is
this happy tongue.

3 comments:

Ross said...

Thinking of you today. -Ross xxoo

Steven Anthony said...

pic and words, beautiful.

SteveA said...

I love berries but never thought of it that way! ummm