Blackberries

The sun was high and the air was hot,

As we walked through the fields of blackberry plots.

My great grandmother and I, we picked and picked,

Until our baskets were full and our fingers were pricked.

We talked about life and love and all that's in between,

As we walked through the fields of blackberry green.

The sun began to set and the sky turned red,

As we made our way back to the house ahead.

We sat on the porch and ate blackberry pie,

As we watched the fireflies light up the sky.

My great grandmother smiled and said with a sigh,

"Life is like blackberries, sweet but fleeting, so don't let it pass you by."