Mother of the Vine
she said "wake up"
for your hour is near
time to hold
something
dear
nature's beast
and cold breast
another year of
painful rest
in her
night shines the
brightest light
of hopes
and
of
dreams
the vine is
tight like a noose
strangling the day
an it's brilliant
flight
harvest moon
is her only plight
her stranglehold
nearing death
a peace for
earth
to bed our
grave to wake
good morning
what's in our
heads
mother of the vine
sleep sweet
sleep
Copyright © Gregory Ramos | Year Posted 2015
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