Every September they reappear

for a week or so, before summer

truly ends. They dart by

with a measured recklessness.

Green, yellow-green,

and small as birch leaves,

Cape Mays or Magnolias

never fail to keep me

of two minds about the world,

looking up as much as down.

I've followed the crooked line

they take high into trees,

tucking themselves into shade,

and seen clusters of grapes

hanging so naturally at that height

you'd think they'd grown

by some human arrangement.

But it's a lifetime since farm people

made a home here and maybe

marked a place to grow fruit

and watch birds.

Still those grapes keep hanging on,

bringing warblers in by the bushel,

as if someone knew it could always be.

About these ads
Sponsored Content by LockerDome

We want to hear, did we miss an angle we should have covered? Should we come back to this topic? Or just give us a rating for this story. We want to hear from you.




Save for later


Saved ( of items)

This item has been saved to read later from any device.
Access saved items through your user name at the top of the page.

View Saved Items


Failed to save

You reached the limit of 20 saved items.
Please visit following link to manage you saved items.

View Saved Items


Failed to save

You have already saved this item.

View Saved Items