Cities and suburbs, real and imaginary.

Tuesday, March 22, 2022

Sonnet #341

 The weight of a grapevine is greater than vines

The trellis bends where branches thicken while

the leaves burst and then they fade while

the fruit thickens, thickens, and turns from green to wine

And all of this is just a drop of weight, 

hardly counts as half of all the pull

where hornets build their nests and full

colonies of ants rise up to suck the sweet

where their aphid farms grow, I know

the birds build nests there, and the lizard

sings in twilight on the vine, a whole

world waits for grapes to be delivered

Oh, hungry, hungry caterpillar, swollen

on the vine, cocoon thyself, there, 

Become the seeds, all seeds, flung into the air

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