Blackberries in the Sky with Window Panes
Robert Frost wrote
Something there is that doesn’t love a wall,
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
And spills the upper boulders in the sun
And that is the East Coast snowy winter version, but here
Blackberries love a wall to death and they’d like to love you, too
They clutch sheer sides with sharp claws– ragged-wing bats
Offering clumps of purple plump to tempt you in to their embrace.
Sweet sweet sweet, the rosy lipped promise.