Swimming in the Summer of Blackberries

This summer is the summer of blackberries

We swim in the barely cool water

Across the little bay

And pick blackberries along the shore each Sunday

This year big and juicy 

They droop down toward the water

Beckoning outstretched fingers 

Eating our fill noting the oncoming ripening berries

Already thinking of eating them next Sunday

Laughing and washing our hands in the clear water 

We slowly float back across the bay on our backs

Watching circling ospreys 

The sky and lake melting together

Feeling each ripple of delicious water

In the heat and sun of lazy August

Already dreaming of the nap to come