Mr. Bojanower: a poem about life & wine

Northwest tones
of oaks and greens,
inside these walls
of posts and beams,

our family dreams
of laughs and grinds
inside the French press
of our minds.
Wide blinds open
upon Mount Hood
and Madrona's vines
beyond the woods.

Black Labs bark
beside the fence.
The Mexicans
are recompensed,

vendange verte-
to pick young grapes.
An American
with all at stake

has passed away
in his sleep
without a taste
of what he's reaped.

Fifty acres
for fine wine.
He owned it all
but lost to time.

Below the earth
He feeds the grapes.
With his death
new life escapes.

© 2013 Brian Loewer

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LVidoni5 profile image

LVidoni5 3 years ago from Portland, Oregon Author

Thanks, glad you thought so! Appreciate the comment.

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MrsBrownsParlour 3 years ago from Chicagoland, Illinois

Interesting life cycle theme...

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