‘Blueberries’ by Natalia Bhend

Blueberries

Driving out into the country
farms on one side
train tracks on the other
I can still hear the muffled sound of them
rumbling, slowly
Faint whistle
in the night
while I lie sleeping

Quiet mornings
as I wake
the train is still going
continuously
lights out but the house is
lit up by the little sunlight peering into the windows
dewy mornings
cloudy and cold
trees outside are turning yellow

Blueberries for breakfast
thrown into the ceramic bowls
All shades of the rainbow
slight sprinkle of sugar
black coffee
Cool scent
slight chills as I
walk downstairs into the
basement
entering the room where I stay
setting my things down

And reminiscing of the old days when
we would play board games
and eat leftover frosting from the bowl
Then in the fields
walking down each row
Chandler, Duke, Bluegold, Patriot
stumbling on the uneven ground
stepping on the blueberries left behind
picking and tasting as I go
my bucket overflowing
where the blueberries grow