Blueberry Picking
Blueberry Picking
Under the Honeysuckle, blue as the skies
in hands of a mid-western girl
where strings of bright blueberries match her eyes
blue dyes every curl.
These ripe delicious blueberries on my block
where lies dead song bird
pale breasted with broken wing lying on rock
songs no longer heard.
A beautiful woman stands smiling at me
blueberries staining her tears
offers me her fresh picked fruit: I will see
tonight we could forget our fears.
© 2020 Jamie Lee Hamann
Comments
AUTHORThank you for your kind comments Ann, Louise, Ruby, Brenda, and Mitara. Jamie
So sad about the bird.
A lovely display of natural beauty in your write
Thanks for sharing
Nice writing.
Great to have someone to share time with during this time of uncertain fear.
The song bird dying is sad but the poetry is beautiful!
Aww, that's a lovely poem. I really enjoyed reading that.
Bitter sweet! Great verses. And that photo made my mouth water!
Ann
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