purpleraysblog posted: " * Augustby Mary Oliver When the blackberries hangswollen in the woods, in the bramblesnobody owns, I spendall day among the highbranches, reachingmy ripped arms, thinkingof nothing, crammingthe black honey of summerinto my mouth; all day my bod" Purplerays
When the blackberries hang swollen in the woods, in the brambles nobody owns, I spend all day among the high branches, reaching my ripped arms, thinking of nothing, cramming the black honey of summer into my mouth; all day my body accepts what it is. In the dark creeks that run by there is this thick paw of my life darting among the black bells, the leaves; there is this happy tongue.
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