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Evenings, the farmer will trail the orange path of sunset a bucket at his hip his weathered hand outstretched to pick the berries and his hands are like the blackberry brambles with their scratches and scars and leathered calluses giving but taking, yielding forsaking their gentleness feels bitter as thorn but is it not love to aid the kid being born to shake out the corn for the geese to be fed to call the ducks home at dusk to their beds and still it is love that sharpens the knife to weepingly, gratefully take away life and graciously, tenderly give life back again in the black of manure in the pigs dusty pen to love like this is no flippant gamble it is to walk carefully and wisely in blackberry bramble
About the Author
Marie Burdett is an environmental studies student at the University of Central Florida. She has had a passion for writing poetry since a young age and won the 2019 Arts for Life Award in Creative Writing. When not writing poetry, she can be found vegetable gardening, foraging for wild foods in the woods, or reading form her endless pile of books.