Taking off

First there was a hillside, and flowers.
The wind in the trees muffled by the roar of a jet overhead, so much like the sound of time passing.

What’s her name, said the mother.
Grandma, said the child. 

Then running with a sweater held high over her shoulders catching the wind and flying, and at last lifting her into the air.

-

Old Vine Cuvée

Ripe strawberry
and cedar, reminiscent
of Auntie Irene’s house
in the morning,
wallpaper of the seasons,
weathervane out on the roof.

Taste like a fragrance,
the end soft, subtle
with clear raspberry notes
descending as autumn leaves
before the first frost.

Afternotes nutty—
filbert, and almond,
endurance through
the winter, the long
slant of sunlight,
warmth.