Concord Grape Leaf by Brian Pennington
The concords hung heavy from a weathered fence
A boundary long lost to the corrosion of time
Sweet juices, impatient wine, run down a jaw
Set against remembering a younger fence, more naive
Than the vines that grew with patience and care.
And now the winter calls it’s first breath
Deep into metal lungs, and I nibble on the sour grapes
To settle my spirit and clear your from this body of mine.
the run down fence that grew
into a boundary of
sour grapes and sweet juices
remembering a younger body with
a naive jaw
I nibble on your spirit
to clear the winter vines
more impatient than weathered
and mine
set the concords
settle my wine
and now
from this time
it’s heavy hung from metal lungs
the first deep breath of care and corrosion
calls to the
patience long lost against a fence
