[Editor’s Note: In recognition of National Poetry Month, we will publish a poem written by a local poet or well-known author each week this month. New Milford Poet Laureate James Scrimgeour will select each poem. The first poem is “August,” by Mary Oliver, an American poet who won the National Book Award and the Pulitzer Prize. Oliver, who was born Sept. 10, 1935, died Jan. 17.]

August

When the blackberries hang

swollen in the woods, in the brambles

nobody owns, I spend

all day among the high

branches, reaching

my ripped arms, thinking

of nothing, cramming

the black honey of summer

into my mouth; all day my body

accepts what it is. In the dark

creeks that run by there is

this thick paw of my life darting among

the black bells, the leaves; there is

this happy tongue.