Poem: On A Blueberry Plain


On A Blueberry Plain
Thick, bramble and blackberry, rhododendron, scrub pine,
A line of wisteria holding it fast to the vines from tree to tree,
Broken Cherokee rose limbs reach back to hold onto barb wire,
To touch the ever present tall grasses from fence post to fence post,
Walking the tree line, looking deeper and deeper among it all,
Maypops and dandelions brush leaves together,
Muscadines attach to the wisteria tightrope and grab onto anything
That will hold them high, and so grow our first crops. Together in groves
And small forests that pop up between highways and suburbs,
In the back yards of 1940s warehouses and busted down barns,
Lining the state lines of Tennessee and North Carolina
Beside marshes and run off blueberries tangle along the way into every
Thicket, onto flat fields and rich red lands, the blueberry
Towers in it’s lack of elevation, pine scented and dark blue,
From sweet to tart sour, fresh jelly jam sauce and frozen snack,
Decoration, delicious and power rich with no alteration
From Chemists and Shadows, just this perfect little
Dark diamond up against them all, up against old cotton pastures
Until it has become our beautiful darling, our new super berry,
Super fruit growing stronger than the Georgia peach,
Stronger than all the sweet corn, soy, wheat and peanuts
You can find, stronger as it is still pure, it is still alive
In spite of the Doctorates and deeply plowed DNA,
At least there is something we can still hold, eat,
And declare it is ours, it is the body, good old blueberry,
Muscadine and wild Rose, you keep my heart alive,
You give us here a bit of hope. You give life while asking nothing
But to grow and to leave their essence alone.

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