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NO GREEN BERRIES OR LEAVES
Walking north
along the tracks
past Lilly pond,
thistles mark
the narrow path
through grass
moist in morning dew.
To the blueberry
woods,
where filling a quart container
brought praise
for no green berries of leaves,
as a mother smiled
on a child's labor.
Now gathering blueberries
like a prayer,
the first taste
a communion
the mystery shared.
Paul J Stankard
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