April 25*

blackberry plants

by warm soft night
they curl and creep
through open-window dreams,
and in the broad daylight
brazenly charge
our helpless architecture
and shrinking trails

underground, overhead
blackberry battles

bloodstab thorns
strangling stems

we hack and clip
knowing deep
that when we die
they will cover our graves
pry into the coffins
and make sweet fruit
from our best and worst

*Copyright 2010 by Luther Allen. This poem appears in The View from Lummi Island.
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