I am bandit at the banquet, 

buzzing bee soundtrack 

hillside embankment.

 

Your shiny-sheened 

tight tummies of youth surrender

to a middle-aged plumpness like mine.  

Greedy fingers absolved 

by your soft touch.

 

I remember years when pelting rains 

barraged and beat you, robbed us of time.

Battered berries shriveled to hard shells. 

No reprise of bees in hives.

 

Now we are free to embrace this

feast of purple plumpness, dance an 

intertwined tango with reckless abandon. 

 

My stained palms ignore sharp thorny teeth 

that etch-a-sketch my flesh in blackberry art. 

I revel in such excess. 

You make me your canvas. 

 

Buddies, fulfilled by bountiful berry bliss.