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Behind the Blackberry Thicket
(2)
Crashing through, I find a grove,
sycamore, ash, a single maple.
The deer take refuge here unhampered
by the mass of blackberries
and goldenrod, monarchs and bees,
that excludes a thing my shape.Between the trees
along the leaf-mold floor,
grapevines twine like Laocons snakes,
binding all into slow silence.Twenty years since the astonished dog
cornered a crawdad in what Id thought
was just another hayfield,
this wet-weather streambed,
not a place to mow or plow.Focused on the quick
children, garden, livestock —
I did not see this wilderness of vines
and saplings transform itself into a woods.Originally published at the New Voices International Project
New Voices International Project
2 Responses to “Behind the Blackberry Thicket”
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Sherry, that’s lovely. I like the “leaf-mold floor,” the “slow silence,” and the “wet-weather streambed” that makes the “tranform[ation]” possible.
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sherry April 20th, 2008 at 8:42 pm
Thanks, Helen. This poem is one that I continue to think I did a pretty good job with. And, if you discount the title, it is exactly 100 words long.
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My Books
Dance the Black-Eyed Girl
My Will and Testament Is on the Desk
Artistic Support
Sherry has also received an Artist Enrichment grant from the Kentucky Foundation for Women.
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