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.



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