As with the words, he dramatizes his "late September blackberry-eating"—the words and the berries, "which I crush, squinch open, and spill well in the quiet, frightened, freezing, black language." As he wonders on the presence of both, the mysteries of language and blackberry-eating become entwined. Language is a mystery because we cannot see it or touch it; it is also a mystery because we cannot explain its existence or nature. The only thing we know for sure about it is that it has the power to both reveal and conceal. To eat a blackberry is to engage in a primitive act. When we eat a blackberry we are connecting with our past. We are eating something that once belonged to the plant world but now belongs to us completely. It is a symbol of our own mortality when eaten by humans; however, it is also a symbol of life cycle and change when consumed by animals. No matter how you look at it, eating a blackberry is a matter of perspective. There are many different ways of seeing things, and each way brings new insights and possibilities. Kinnell uses language to explore ideas that would otherwise be impossible to express. He shows us that there are certain concepts that can only be understood by comparing them to other concepts or experiences. For example, when talking about death, it's very difficult to understand what it means to someone who has never experienced loss themselves.