Nearly finished with our customary
Walk, but instead of a left towards home
I confuse the dog, urge him onward
My head still busy with the day

And I know of some blackberry vines
Running riot by the sidewalk.
And since the sun is hot
And the days are long

And the dog plunges forward, always
Into an everlasting moment
Then perhaps the blackberries are ready
Bursting blobs on creeping vines

Shining black eyes, bright
As nails, like a lover I tug
And off it slides like a loose glove
Staining fingers indigo as I pop

One into mouth, the summer’s full ripeness
Thimblesweet, heat, spidersilk and dust
I taste another, and another, reach deep
Never mind the thorns.


© by Ryan Warren.
Used with the author’s permission.