Tears in The Vine Eyes
Written: January 17, 2026, for contest sponsored by Constance La France
Quote: “Dusk remembers what the heart forgets.” By Poet
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I never questioned tastefulness or sway.
The vine bent through the fading of the day—
Not like the softness of your lips on mine
As dusk stole luster from the vineyard way.
I revere the earth from which I refine,
I implored for goodness, engrossed in wine.
Beneath the dim shadows of the fall crop—
It seems just warmth, nothing further divine.
Each week, I grind myself down with a strop,
Start our path, bound for the grave or the top.
A long stretch, ending with tears in the eyes—
Faith doesn't demand a grand ripple to drop
You drift by day, resting below calm skies.
No inflated self, just a lost disguise—
Gone are the cheerful moods and youthful tales
No grief or angst, yet left to stain the dyes.
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