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The Poet's Corner

Blueberry joy

Posted

Dad taught me how to search for

ripe blueberries, how to tickle the stems

and gently strip branches clean

without bruising the fruit.

Back then, giggling, we’d pop a few

in our mouths, and I’d roll them

a little – on the tongue

before closing teeth to burst the skin.

Blueberry picking with my dad

meant slower days, earth-funk time

in South Jersey fields, fingers stained purple

and berries ripening in the sun

on low scrubby bushes, their

bounty yielding at the warm press of flesh.

Tasting fresh blueberries now, warm

from my local farmers market is

reminder of blueberry mornings together,

sense moments saved from all those years ago

on the warmest of July days.

Dad liked heading out early,

just after the season began.

Sometimes we wouldn’t hit the farms

until late July, or even August.

Few things are as true as New Jersey blues.

Melinda Rizzo is the Bucks County Herald’s Area Guide to Homes Editor.

Poet’s Corner is curated by Bucks County Poet Laureate Tom Mallouk and supported by a grant to the Bucks County Herald Foundation made possible by Marv and Dee Ann Woodall.

To submit a poem for consideration, email it to Heraldpoetscorner@gmail.com.

If the poem has been previously published, please say where it first appeared.


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