A Gift of Blueberries

Lobie Daughton

A gift of Island poetry | curated by Deirdre Kessler

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This secret place.
This juice
that blooms upon my lips,
that coats my fingertips.
This purple harvest
that I search for on the briny bank
beneath these birches.

I hunt among the moistened underbrush,
so tenderly and
to the uttermost.
Tiny hidden flavours
of the forest,
of the sea.
Each rolling, juice-filled bead a trophy.
Tokens,
only tokens, love,
to burst upon your tongue.

—Lobie Daughton, Country Matters, Saturday Morning Chapbooks, 2014.

Deirdre Kessler selects a poem a month by an Island poet for The Buzz.

A Gift of Island PoetryDeirdre KesslerLobie Daughtonpoetry