Picking Blueberries

by Peter Notehelfer


Out on the shrubs
the blueberries hang
in their thick clusters
kernels on a corn’s ear
and fat as a bloated pea
left too long on the vine
the boys black as night
dancing belly to belly
with the skinny girls
pale as skim’d milk 

How do I pick him
without picking her
Now there’s the rub!
As I sit & contemplate
my dilemma cup in hand
up flies this little finch
and lights on a branch
setting bush to quiver
& blueberries to fall
1 for her & 5 for me

“Better than any argument is to rise at dawn
and pick dew-wet red berries in a cup.”

~ Wendell Berry


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