by Ethel Mortenson Davis
I remember you best
at blackberry time:
The best gatherer
of our time
who could out-pick
the Champion Blackberry King
with his shining buckets
and mounds upon
mounds
of the gems
shining
like your shining
eyes were,
dark, almost black.
I remember you best
when I go
into the woods
to gather berries,
reaching out
for the shining black
eyes
and seeing your brown,
strong hands again,
coming home
to show us
your treasures.
How good it felt
this blackberry time.
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