We have been spending time at our cabin.

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In the window, on our bench, the light flows through green bottles.

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Our paths are green tunnels.

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And in the fields and along the trails are blueberries.

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Lots to pick and eat.

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bitter blue

for Mom

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of all the silvery summer days we spent   none so warm   sun on granite boulders   round blue berry field   miles across hazy miles away from hearing anything but bees

and berries

plopping in the pail

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beside you   I draped my lazy bones on bushes   crushed berries and thick red leaves over moss dark animal trails nudged between rocks berries baking brown   musk rising to meet blue heat

or the still fleet scent

of a waxy berry bell

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melting in my mouth   crammed with fruit   sometimes pulled from laden stems   more often scooped…