Tuesday, August 25, 2009


—For Pat Nolan & Phil Coturri

It was Octoberishly chilly before the harvest,
we uncorked the wine, staggered thru vineyards,
& read to the vines a little renku, some senryu
to remind them of their job—to inspire.
We linked verses, hiccuped in fine haikai format,
the vines were black, last year's vintage blacker yet,
but the moon, oh, the moon shivered
beneath wavering stars,
& our words lingering on the air in ghost blossoms,
grabbed a bottle, thumbed a ride to the river
on the tule fog.

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