The vineyards blanketing the shadowed slopes
span across the near horizon
Solemn in mourning lilac
Steam rose from out of the spires
and out of wooden crosses,
and out of wooden crosses,
The sun masked itself
in a shy white haze
that climbed through all
betweens and up over
the narrow rows, hurdles crosses
an angel in the cemetery
lands
the feet feel home
lands
the feet feel home
The wine is red, the blood is fresh
and tears dew
nourish the vine.
Painting by Caravaggio [Public domain], Young sick Bacchus (1593) via Wikimedia Commons.
Painting by Caravaggio [Public domain], Young sick Bacchus (1593) via Wikimedia Commons.
