Sunday, June 19, 2011

The Ripping of the Rivers' Tears

Last night I walked on down a trail
Along a rivers' edge
The red rock country lifted hearts
And stirred my spirits' end.
Three trips were camping by the shore
The one I happened find
Was being educated
On the matter of fine wines.

Fine wines from Malborough, New Zeland
Napa and Merlot, CA.
Elevation, soil and rain
Aeration, steel, oak and names
Were all that night to me explained.

Far off outside Durango
On a lonely Mesa hill
Frank's wife looks at the ashes
Still sitting on the sill.

We started with the Savingon
And then moved on to Oregon
Willamette, names once mis pronounced-
I now transcend those clumsy doubts!
A smile I shared, a sip of wine
A few more and a jug.
My tongue bit hard- I tasted blood
My jaw clenched dumb and snug.

I couldn't quite recall exact locations of details
That Bobs wife fought that time she heard
Bob's final will and wails.
What fragrant nose of sweet perfume
Of tannins, leather, spice-
Were fermenting in that garage
Of Bob's tormented life?

How small I wondered is the grape,
Growing through the sun and shade?
In perfect balance with the days
Being pinched (not moments late!)
The hands of experts will decide
The perfect ways to trim the time
On sunny hills of grass and sand
The Clos du Bois and Crawford brands...

Smaller still and how forgot
Such lives fraught with dreaded rot!
And left to wither on the vine
Unknown, unloved, and undivine
(Unemployed most of the time).

Some more and then 'twas time to go
Back up to my own tent and show
I thanked the hosts with words sincere
(It's all they'll ever know I fear!)
My mind weighed heavy with these thoughts
Such balance balanced in my cup
Such chaos reigning all around
It seems to overflow the towns.

No experts would they venture near
To study sacrifices dear
families, wives, surviving sons
Left behind the funeral drums
No proud service for the man
Who ended life by his own hands
When he was told "no work" again.

High and fast the flows this year,
Though tonight I'm nowhere near
I listen hard and strain to hear
The ripping of the rivers' tears
The subjects known and studied there.

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