Blackberry Picking
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Blackberry picking, one of Heaney’s most famous poems from Death of a Naturalist, published in 1966, was dedicated to Hobsbaum. Late August, given heavy rain and sun For a full week, the blackberries would ripen. At first, just one, a glossy purple clot Among others, red, green, hard as a knot. You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust for Picking.
