Join the Poetry Friday round-up at Carol’s Corner.
Blueberry Picking
with a line from Mark Doty, VergeSome things wear their becoming,
like this blueberry, for example,
plump and perfectly indigo
surrounded by pinky-red brothers and sisters,
it boasts to be chosen
falls easily into my palm
joyfully plinks the plastic bucket.On this dewy June morning,
I wander from bush to bush
silent in my reverie
picking, picking, picking.The berries do not wear a costume.
They linger here in this field
waiting for the juicing of the sun’s rays,
becoming all I need
to take summer in
to hold on to the gift of life.–Margaret Simon, all rights reserved
That’s beautiful, Margaret! My mum used to have blackberry bushes. I loved the crumbles she made.
I have a blueberry cobbler made and ready. It smells delicious!
Ooh blueberries yum! Enjoy
Hi, Margaret. Blueberry picking was one of our summer (July here) traditions when the children were little. “The juicing of the sun” — well said! I have a recipe for no-bake blueberry pie if you’re interested.
Would love the recipe, Laura. I made a cobbler yesterday, the easy way with cake mix. You can email it to me.
Love your poem and the photos! I like the reflective tone and that surprising “plink” conjuring up a childhood memory of Blueberries for Sal.
Oh my..we are a long ways away from blueberries, but your lovely poem and photographs have me dreaming of blueberry picking before too long…plump and perfectly indigo – beautiful!
Blueberries in June? Oh my. But we will soon have strawberries.
I love the meditative feel of this poem. I am with you there in the cool of the morning, going from bush to bush, mesmerized by the berries, “picking, picking, picking.” Enjoy your summer!
I’ve never picked blueberries, but have done blackberries-wonderful to have the berries fresh. Your poem is good, Margaret, imparting such a calm & happy feeling, & those pictures, such gorgeous green!
“Some things wear their becoming” … love that line and what you’ve done with it. I strive to wear my becoming as well.
This is just to say that I have been here and read your words, but surgery on both thumbs last Tuesday prevents me from typing a personalized comment. Forgive me — copy/paste is the best I can do this week! 🙂
I saw your picture on Facebook. Oh my! What happened? Get well fast. You need your thumbs.
Mmmm, fresh blueberries. Your poem takes me back to my days in New Hampshire, where this was a favorite experience. And your poem would be a great mentor text for “small moments” or sensory details. So perfect!
Your poem makes me feel as though I am there with you! I am looking forward to strawberry picking next week. Nice boots! 🙂
Very beautiful – the blueberries do not wear a costume indeed, they don’t need to – so blazingly beautiful as they are. 🙂
[…] See the rest of the poem here. […]