Out behind a house, in the corner
of a small-town subdivision, two sisters are picking blackberries.
The brambles, overgrown and wild, tumble
thickly, mingling with other vegetation of their ilk:
poison sumac, pokeweed, stinging nettles.
The girls, carefully avoiding thorns
of every sort, find small wounds unavoidable
in prickling bushes such as these. The sweet reward
of blackberries make minor scratches tolerable,
small badges of honor from the briars.