Private Selection

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This is an early poem in a series I'm doing related to/deriving from wines.

Private Selection

Mondavi, Bourbon barrel-aged

Cabernet sauvignon,

limited release.

 

If minutes could be held such,

in limited release, in the mouth

sweet copper etchings linger,

 

a harvest of peach pit and wood,

dark golden apple too, understood

to drip eternity through our fingers,

 

as we are, around a table strewn

with roasted pumpkin seeds,

an iron skillet

 

rusty with politics ---

 

outside the window, vineyard,

donkey with eyes the color

of our stubborn needs,

 

mountains, caves,

and maps for getting home

again, if we could only will it ---

 

along the way the path all smooth,

all green, native, communal, robust,

like tannins ---

 

on our lips, a breed of clay

and cellar, casting off pale tradition

for perfect pairings,

 

cool lovers in lighted

gardens, our sorrows sparing,

and drinking now of filigree,

 

we might in this American landscape,

nuanced, complex --- trail-blaze

and garnish history.

 

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