Blackberry Eating

Galway Kinnell

(1927 – 2014)

Blackberry Eating

I love to go out in late September

among the fat, overripe, icy, black blackberries

to eat blackberries for breakfast,

the stalks very prickly, a penalty

they earn for knowing the black art

of blackberry-making; and as I stand among them

lifting the stalks to my mouth, the ripest berries

fall almost unbidden to my tongue,

as words sometimes do, certain peculiar words

like strengths or squinched,

many-lettered, one-syllabled lumps,

which I squeeze, squinch open, and splurge well

in the silent, startled, icy, black language

of blackberry-eating in late September.

Thanks to Beau River for suggesting this poem and for bringing Galway Kinnell to my attention.

This poem holds a magnifying glass to a moment which would go unnoticed by many folks. It is a reminder to take the time to notice small things in fleeting moments. One writer said there were three such delights that were both profound and simple - the small of fresh baked bread, the taste of salt and the laughter of little children. To which we might now add blackberries for breakfast and certain surprising words. What small things do you take the time to notice?

For more about the poet - Galway Kinnell