Pinot Noir

You offer me a sip,
fermented Vitis vinifera
from your cool valley,
named black pine

for the way the fruit
grows in tight bunches
shaped like pine cones,
lust upon juicy lust,

clusters of dusky purple
desire, thin-skinned,
aromatic, taste of wild
strawberries on the tongue.

In wine-stained dreams
I waft through your vineyard.



About Ray Sharp

Father, poet, triathlete, local public health planner
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2 Responses to Pinot Noir

  1. Marya says:

    So lush! I can almost taste it. Beautiful, Ray.

  2. Nice tribute to an awesome grape variety 🙂

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