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  • The Paris Review

    Four Poems by Brenda Shaughnessy

    Dec 15, 2017 3 minutes

    BLUEBERRIES FOR CAL

    Watching little Henry, six, scoop up blueberries
    and shovel them into his mouth, possessed.

    I’m so glad I brought blueberries—wish my kids
    could/would eat them. Cal can’t; Simone won’t.

    Henry’s sisters, Lucy & Jane, took turns feeding each
    other goldfish crackers and sips of juice.

    Arms around each other’s neck and back. Tiny things.
    I wish my daughter had a sister like that

    and my son a nervous system that let him walk
    and munch berries. Sometimes I can’t bear

    all the thingseverything I can’t give him.

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