With each bite I smile
Or, maybe I cry:
You take them from the bush
Mine comes down from tree.
It is funny.
We name them the same thing
Yours come with larger seeds
Mine’s juicier, sour and sweet.
Mine looks like mulberry
That, here you don’t see.
Are we right?
Are they both blackberries?
Are we talking same thing?
Nassy Fesharaki's Other Poems
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