Solace by a Vineyard
My sister coaxes the spirit of the vineyard
through her lens. Morning mist
shrouds rows of staked vines
marching uphill, their faint silhouettes
repeating a beloved namewe share. The unseen, just there.
We have been through a year
of not seeing each other,
a family safely apart,
our solace sprawled in text, online.Our fog of distance hovering
in a shared absence large as the giant oak tree
veiled in her picture, a shadowy umbrella
spreading wide its embrace.Her work is titled "Guardian of the Vineyards."
It gives me a solace that can't be pronounced,
an incomplete sentence I'm forever rehearsing.
May the memories always guard us.
