PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Picking blueberries in the bog in New Jersey is all good and well when you’re just 17 years old and hanging out in a campground for most of the summer.  You know you’re getting a free supply of blueberries and it’s a casual adventure on a rowboat.

You splash some water on the lovely 16 year old lass you’ve been crushing on all summer long.  She’s wearing cut-off shorts and a bikini top.  She feigns upset but a coy smile gives her away.  She splashes back and makes fun of your dimples when you smile at her.

You’ll fill up a pail with luscious blueberries and kill off a lazy afternoon.  It’s a warm partly sunny, partly cloudy day.  Arms and body parts occasionally get entwined in the labor.  Your ear may have been bitten by something other than a horsefly.  Somehow the pail will manage to get filled.

But then you turn around and start to pass judgment on others.  Why would anyone working in a field or a bog picking fruit have anything to complain about?  I’m having such a good time doing this.  It really isn’t that bad.

Of course, slumming presents a lot of misleading notions.  You got to go out by choice when you wanted and stay out for as long as you want.  If it gets too hot or if it starts to rain, you can just go in.  You pick a single pail’s worth of blueberries not 30 or 40 in a day.  You get to eat your bounty.  You control the amount of time you spend doing it.  And for heavens sake, if you play your cards right, you might even get laid after the dance in the barn tonight.