Sauternes Poem by cahen thrips

You held on when summer gales
peaked; firm berries clustering
in falls; through leaves I watched you
bend and spring to every bluster,
always returning stronger than before.

You tried to hide behind fragile
vines, well knowing you were more
fragile than all; and I could see
protective tendrils curled around
your sapling limbs until I came to call.

Fruit of your vine is bitter yet; too
soon to harvest darkling grapes;
I pick a few, taste on parched lips,
turn my tongue to test the hue -
now time to infuse with noble rot.

So sweet fair liquors from the press;
how clear when fermentation stops;
though storms may rage from other parts
I lift a glass to raise a toast: to that
moon glim time when you at last let go.

November 2021