Sonoma Harvest
Grapevines flow in gentle lines
blanketing the rich hillsides.
Clothed in hues of golds and reds
harvest barreled wine in sheds.
Dappled light breaks misty morn
blackbirds stir and are reborn.
Spiders weave through branch and leaf
dewdrops glisten, earth smells sweet.
Lone oak spreads its branches wide
reaching up to touch the sky.
Lone cow lingers in the field
bows her head, then eats her meal.
Chill of morn gives way to day
butterflies flit ‘round the hay.
Workers glean the harvest crush
‘midst pungent smells of purple must.
Hours pass as sunlight fades
lengthening the shadow’s rays.
Vigor wanes as strength is spent
hours of labor, time now to rest.
Sunset rays fill fading skies
brilliant color prisms rise.
Luminescent moonlight beams
through fall leaves and harvest dreams.
Written on 11/27/2017
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