Blackberry season

Excuse me for a while 

as I disappear 

into the edge of

the woods seeking 

summer’s sweet fruit 

Don’t mind the scratches, 

I’ll endure the pokes 

to dive deep, 

covered in brambles, 

of momentary discomfort. 

I’m searching, 

selecting, tasting, 

savoring the sweetness 

of black gold 

arriving in it’s time 

It’s harvest 

this moment, 

a bountiful brilliance

of sun, heat and sweat 

on simmering skin. 

I won’t miss a morsel

filling my hands

with bursts of beauty

this present discovery, 

Glory shrouded in bramble.