blueberries & friendship

In the green of the white mountains
by the calm lake in the early summer
before the air is heavy
the first blueberries learn
they are not meant to be green

with both hands, i part the brush
cautiously step stone by stone
to the lapping despiar of water's edge
and inspect the bush to know
the truth about sweetness

Though it is only weeks until they ripen
i know, many will be eaten by the birds
many will fall into waves too enthusiastic
for this place,  many will never be
the life sustaining juice of memory
and a perfect day.

The days pass, the nights, the rains
the sunshine until a basket is woven
and ready to collect the vanity of God

In the warmth of a family kitchen
by the calm of love and conversation
before the night is too strong
the first blueberries learn
that they are meant to be part of me.