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So basically our english teacher gave us this assignment, a bunch of 'em really, where you have to write a poetry response for four poems, then hand in your best. You can write about anything that has to do with the subject of the poem, what the title reminds you of, an actual poetry analysis, etc. So what I keep doing is writing about what the title makes me think of. Because the poems never make enough sense, and really, titles are easy to reflect on. So yeah.
Blackberries for Amelia: Poetry Response.
The setting? A patch of blackberries, on a rocky beach beside an old looking dock. Seven children happily reach up for the succulently sweet-and-sour berries, stuffing three into their mouths before putting one into their bucket. A dog stands by them, a yellow labrador retriever, picking his own lie-lowing berries, not wanting to miss any himself. Soon, there are little more berries to pick in this layer, so the party goes hunting for something to stand on: tall rocks, rickety plastic chairs, and tip-toes seem to work well for this endeavor. As the sun begins to slowly lose altitude, the berry bucket gets heavy and full. It is time to head back. The younger children straggle behind, while some of the older ones run with the dog, throwing sticks into the water for him, hiding behind rocks. A pair of others are carrying the pail, their arms beginning to get heavy and sore, but the prospect of what is coming next makes them want to get home even faster. Once they reach the small cabin’s exterior, they wave and shout for one of the adults to open the door for them. It doesn’t take long – everyone wants a taste. Dutifully, the children march the blackberries up the narrow steps, all trying to squeeze in next to them. The door to the kitchen is opened, and the rowdy crowd of excited children hand over the pail, then run back downstairs, peeling off their clothing and running into the refreshingly cold sea, swimming around, wading, and jumping off the water-platform, located meters from the water’s edge. As the smell of blackberry pie slowly drifts from the cottage, the children begin coming out from the water, one by one. It is getting darker, and it is almost time for their favorite dish: pie. The children dry and get dressed, waiting for the moment they are all ready so that they can race upstairs and get a taste of their pickings. The pie is served with vanilla ice cream. As the children finish, the younger ones begin to tire, each drifting back downstairs and to their beds. Eventually, the hardier ones begin to yawn as well, but pretend to still be awake enough. They want more pie. The scene gets farther and farther away as memories start to fade. But this one is sure to stay with me forever, as it will always be there to help me remember that little cabin in [Sorry, you can't know where because that would be stalking. Well, technically.]
My parents loved it. So should you.
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<3
