And for the last day of National Poetry Month...
Over the hills, two bird’s call
and answer one another;
a song in balance, a high
and a low, heard but not seen.
Back and forth they continue, high,
higher, their voices reach;
carried aloft, subtle breezes
cannot hide an unexpected discord.
It must be the wind, winter kissed
that ruffle the leaves that hide them.
It must be the cold, slipping past their feathers,
driving through them like a knife.
But, ah, there is the sun, yellow-
white, peeking through slow moving clouds.
The warmth brushes past the chill,
A warmth beneath the pair’s feathers.
The debate calms and settles,
softened by the mounting warmth.
They sing in harmony, together
with a third voice: the wind’s whisper.
Note: This poem is not inspired by any wine; however, it was inspired by a visit to Bending Branch earlier this year. It was quite day that bordered on winter and spring. Sometimes, the setting at the winery is inspiration all on its own.
ALSO, the 4th Annual Bending Branch Derby Party is on Saturday, May 3 from 11-6. s usual, I will be there with a new hat. For more info, see my article on Texas Wine and Trail.