picking blueberries

let's go

pick some fruit, she tells me

one Saturday morning.

i lower

the newspaper

and say,

what?

let's drive out to Berryville

and pick

some blueberries,

or strawberries.

spend the day out in the country.

come on,

there's not a cloud

in sky.

it'll be fun.

i try to get a read on her face

to see if this

will be a problem

if i say no.

but the look in her

eyes says

that there's no way out.

there will be hell to pay.

okay, i tell her.

swallowing a sigh.

let me get dressed, then we

can go.

great she says, i've already

packed the car.