Blackberries for Amelia
Fringing the woods, the stone walls, and the lanes,
Old thickets everywhere have come alive,
Their new leaces reaching out in fans of five
From tangles overarched by this year's canes.
They have their flowers, too, it being June,
And here or there in brambled dark-and-light
Are small, five-petalled blooms of chalky white,
As random-clustered and as loosely strewn
As the far swtars, of which we now are told
That ever faster do they bolt away,
And that anight may come in which, some say,
We chall have only blackness to behold.
I have no time for any change so great,
But I shall see the August weather spur
Berries to ripen where the flowers were-
Dark berries, savage-sweet and worth the wait-
And there will come the moment to be quick
And save some from the birds, and I shall need
Two pails, old clothes in which to stain and bleed,
And a grandchild to talk with while we pick.
This poem was very relaxing for me. It was as if summer was set into motion again and all the worries of school, friendships, and stress were eliminated. When the author writes "I have no time for any change so great" I was struck into jealousy of how the life of this poem will always be the same the words always representing stressless summer days and summer nights.
When I read this poem, at first, I imagined a child living in a place much like Colorado; the nature of the world always around. This child always living in harmony with their parents farm or garden of some sort exploring around and being in complete awe of the world around them. In the last line it states "And a grandchild to talk with while we pick." I realized that the poem was not about a child at all but about an elderly person who is probably retired. This elderly person always tending to their garden waiting for the days their grandchildren are out of school and are ready to come spend the summer in their beautiful garden.
The elderly are waiting and making memories for years to come of all the great times their grandchildren and themselves spent outside. When I think of this it reminds me of how technology and media are destroying the traditions of the past and making a new. Things like computers, gameboys, xbox, and facebook are preventing children from experiencing the world and appreciating nature. New ages prevent beautiful things like this poem coming true...