Picking Raspberries
by Lisel Mueller
Once the thicket opens
and lets you enter
and the first berry dissolves on your tongue,
you will remember nothing
of your old life. You can stay
in that country of sun and silence
as long as you like. To return,
you have only to look at your arms
and discover the long, red marks.
You will have invented pain,
which has no place there.
