Papa showed me the way
to the wild blueberries.
We hiked up the tall hill,
and found those sapphire
spheres hanging from
delicate stems.  

He told me stories of
our Native American ancestors
as he taught me how to pick
the berries;

surely a lesson in gathering
like this goes centuries beyond
our two lives combined!

We took
handfuls and filled our
mouths with the sweetest
blueberries I had ever tasted.
Once we had our fill, we
gazed out upon the horizon
and admired the beauty of the
ancient forest, then we returned
down the dusty trail, climbed
into the truck, and drove away.