Gayle Sweeney

Rookie - 26 Points (1955 / USA)

Rag Rock - Poem by Gayle Sweeney

When I was a child on Rag Rock blueberries surprised me
Near shady trees.
The berries revealed a dark, sparkling blue and caught a deep, rich,
Dreamy breeze.
Soft, warm footpaths can be quietly followed
Warmed by the heavenly sun.
Some summer days white clouds greet the bright, dancing sky
With a happy welcome!
A cliff not far from the woods where
A little berrying still can be done,
Might have helped an old, sacred homeland at one time
From being overrun.
Way up high this threshold purely enchants us
With a magnificent sight.
The cliff is now softly taken only by the
Coming early twilight.


Poet's Notes about The Poem

Rag Rock is conservation land in Woburn MA where an Indian tribe used to live. I picked blueberries there in the Black Woods and played when I was a little girl.

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Poem Edited: Thursday, June 6, 2013


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