For Allen
My favorite memory will be picking blackberries with you
on the way to Boyle's swimming hole.
The path was well lit and sunny and dusty
like I remembered.
There were no cattails but the reeds were as high as our heads.
Blackberry thorns pricked on both sides.
Ripe fruit was scarce but
I reached into the briars
risking skin and limb because blackberries
are your favorite
and I would do anything for you.
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