Vineyard Stories

For Day 2 of National Poetry Month, here is a poem from my fifth book  Digging for God :

Vineyard Stories

 

One son was invited and he said yes

and he did not come.

The other one said no

and regretted it

and came.

Was that the same son

who was killed by all those

tenant farmers?

Were those farmers

the ones

who worked all day

and got the same pay

as the ones who came

at the last horn’s blow?

Did all this happen

in the same vineyard

that glistens in the evening sun

where the lovely macramé of

green strings

reaches out

for the anchoring pole?

Grapes are heavy in the

September air.

Here is a place for

the liar and the rash.

Here is time to say no

and change your mind.

Here, also,

the jealous

and the killer.

Here, harvest.