At the portages, few stopped to pick blueberries
clustered tightly by fistfuls in easy reach, the blue
tears in grey pre-rain light; my son and daughter

sang with the yellow finches feasting on wild delight.
We kneeled among bushes aside the trail, worrying
little beads into our open palms and plastic bags.

Small price we paid: a risk of rain, for prayers.

“Blueberries” was first published in ForPoetry.com in 2000. For old publications, please see the original ForPoetry.com archives.

All Articles, Poems & Commentaries Copyright © 1971-2021 Alyssa A. Lappen
All Rights Reserved.
Printing is allowed for personal use only | Commercial usage (For Profit) is a copyright violation and written permission must be granted first.

I have heard the chorus of loons trilling across wild Quebec nights,
Winding into the furls of wind like sleek ribbons of moonlight,
Banking against the neck of the mountains, casting their songs

Into my sleep. The tongues of autumn lace into dawn, golden
Stalks of sun fray the dusk, thread and sew their eerie voice
Into the quilt of day. If I were a lake, I would lie in wait.

This poem first appeared in ForPoetry.com in 2000. For old publications, please see the original ForPoetry.com archives.

All Articles, Poems & Commentaries Copyright © 1971-2021 Alyssa A. Lappen
All Rights Reserved.
Printing is allowed for personal use only | Commercial usage (For Profit) is a copyright violation and written permission must be granted first.