Blackberry picking with daughter

A heavy summer’s day: arms, legs scratched
reaching farther, dropping them
in a small bin, then a bigger bucket
we hear birdsong and from their soggy field
some cows stare at us.

A sudden smile comes over me.
I am glued into the scene,
berries are raining in my bin
and my mouth is sweet when I hear
the sweetest voice: daddy,

Where do days go?

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