Sunday, November 25, 2007

Read/Write/Poem: Eat Drink

Untitled
Bare feet running between
rows of grapes land
with abandon on
old vine cuttings still
lying on the ground.

The scent of
ripening fruit hangs
heavy over the valley
and we are chasing
birds, timing our
sprints to the explosion
of the cannon that
they have learned
to ignore.

It is April and our
parents are harvesting.

Beyond the grapes
Feijoa trees are dropping
their fruit. We
race to collect
them before the
centipedes move in.

At home bunches of
Muscat in a brown
paper bag are
sitting on the bench
sweating juice.

Our plucking fingers
are sticky, our mouths
prickling at their
sharp sugary taste.

More feasting here.

10 comments:

paisley said...

wow a virtual cornucopia for the senses!!!!!

gautami tripathy said...

That was indeed a great treat!

Jo said...

Lovely, you really took me there.

Crafty Green Poet said...

very evocative and I love the sounds in the last stanza

Dave said...

Vivid imagery. I especially liked the Muscats in a bag.

...deb said...

I love the energetic running around. So rich in childhood memories, no matter which season is portrayed.

Jessica said...

This is a beautiful poem. I especially love the stanza.

Christine said...

Outdoor freshness mixed with animals, fruit, exotic (for me) trees. Lovely. Your poem makes me wish I were there, taking in the sights and perfumes.

Catherine said...

I do agree with the others about the vividness of this poem. You took me by surprise, be cause I was thinking that Wednesday was the day to post our poems. I guess I will have to get mine up now.
Re your comments on my bolg about NaBloPoMo - I agreed to do it because I knew I had a whole lot of my travel diary still to write. It's been more difficult to come up with posts since then - though with read.write.poem it will be three today!

UL said...

You had such a beautiful childhood, you brought it to life here. Thank you.