Blaeberries Poem by Sally Evans

Let's go pick blaeberries,
strong, dark, sweet blaeberries

that lie in lairs
as though they understand
the country's dangerous.

They hide dark wine-blue hue
among mild red-green leaves,
on slopes that stalk the sun.

Let's stay an hour or so,
pretend we live like this
always, provisioning

this fruit we breakfast on,
freeze down, consume as pies,
juice thickened by heat,

sweetened with honey. Shy
on high braes in July,
blaeberries, earthy.

Let's go pick blaeberries
Let's go seek, let's go early.

[2007]