Musings

Poem of the month (in honour of the language of sensations):

 

BLACKBERRY EATING

 

I love to go out in late September

among the fat, overripe, icy, black blackberries

to eat blackberries for breakfast,

the stalks very prickly, a penalty

they earn for knowing the black art

of blackberry making; and as I stand among them

lifting the stalks to my mouth, the ripest berries

fall almost unbidden to my tongue,

as words sometimes do, certain peculiar words

like strengths or squinched,

many-lettered, one-syllabled lumps,

which I squeeze, squinch open, and splurge well

in the silent, startled, icy black language

of blackberry eating in late September.

 

~ Galway Kinnell

from: Mortal Acts, Mortal Words

 

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