Blackberries, Barns, and Bones

Your Weekly Poem

Blackberries, Barns, and Bones

And maybe we’ll pick
the wild blackberries
that grow on the fence we are not to cross.

But, oh, you are too young and I am
just old enough to venture into the
barns full of skeletons.

And when you are just old enough, too,
I will worry about each creak of your unaware steps
that leave trails in the bone dust.

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Featured Image Photo By Andreas Schnabl