While Picking Blueberries

I wandered into the field
to fill my empty heart-basket:
morning sun on the dew,
on the galaxies of blueberries.
Floating through a zone of contentment,
I reached for those dark stars
to bring them home
for pie and cereal toppings.
Not like the ones
on runners in the backyard
waiting to be picked,
these were special blueberries
on mounds of vanilla ice cream.
Yo Yo Ma plucked the cello;
Billie Holiday sang
"God Bless the Child."
 

          Linda Buskey LeBlanc