Blue sky, Blue Hill
reflected in still, blue water.
Blueberries in summer--
pop of sweetness on my tongue.
Poet's Notes: If you have never tasted wild (lowbush) Maine blueberries, treat yourself to a trip to New England around August. I have wonderful memories of picking berries as a child on Blue Hill in Massachusetts and the Blue Hill area in Maine. It was always so hard to drop the berries in my bucket and not my mouth.
"Sweet on Blue" was one of my earliest publications and the defining moment of whether or not to pursue writing. I will always be grateful to Cynthia Brackett-Vincent, editor of the Aurorean, for her encouragement and support.