When the blackberries hang
swollen in the woods, in the brambles
nobody owns, I spend
all day among the high
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieCP6b_64uuEL-e7gRb_Lv0qCPv6JynFLuJHLBZmRLcr2FCVjqfSeuS-p0Ibc6MRJ-finOHFIrnYZysd105mkIiAU54G8pk7QFwxAGyk2_lIUQZBH9EIjn3fOETrZoiLxDQogbiO2TV9A/s200/blackberries.jpg)
my ripped arms, thinking
of nothing, cramming
the black honey of summer
into my mouth; all day my body
accepts what it is. In the dark
creeks that run by there is
this thick paw of my life darting among
the black bells, the leaves; there is
this happy tongue.
Photography credit: Corbis (originally color).
nice poem
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