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Slice of Life March Challenge. No.23

This morning, I thumbed through some posts I wrote last year. One in particular caught my attention, one I wrote last July, a post about picking blueberries. I could feel a poem floating beneath the surface of the prose. So, I pulled out words, phrases, sentences. I did a bit of revision, and a poem emerged. Now, to fully appreciate that poem, imagine that we are picking blueberries on a summer morning.

There will be a day–
a wintry day that
today seems so far away,
a cold rainy,
northwest day that
always follows summer,
a day when we will long for
summer’s sunshine.

And on that day,
we will go to the freezer,
pull out a bag
of dark frosty berries.
we’ll pop a couple
into our mouths and
with the rest
bake a scrumptious pie.

And on that day,
we will sit down
in my toasty kitchen
with a slice of that
blueberry pie
and some old-fashioned
vanilla ice cream.

On that day,
blueberry sweetness
will convey us back
to this summer morning
with bird songs and
a golden sun
chasing the chill of night.
We will remember
a bush, limbs bent low
with sweet, juicy berries.

© 2017 Alice Nine

Branches were so heavy they bent to the ground

One of five large bowls we picked on that summer morning

My winter blueberry pie, with the memory of summer

topped with a scoop of
Tillamook Old-Fashioned Vanilla Ice Cream

Thank you, Two Writing Teachers, for hosting
2017 Slice of Life Story Challenge

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