poem 406 of a poem a day for 2012

a nice Côtes du Rhône with dinner

perhaps, it is

the little pieces

of Sun

that day

when its gold

was molecular thin

and its daylight

stretched hilltops

waiting to pull

down the shade

perhaps, it is

that day

right here

in my glass

swirling bouquets and

sweet aromatic captures

long sugar intimacy  

spun just the right way

on earnest vines

perhaps

we even know

when mindful

of the paths

of our feasts

and drinks

that we are

ever climbing

clocks, stars,

storms and Earth

so we might savor

every infinity

we open ourselves to

before accepting

the rhythms

of our own mortality

in the quiet

of a moment

that tastes like

stopped time

EJR ©