Poetry - Issue 10 | September 2010

Grape Cluster

by Allan


Grape Cluster

the gape of the art
of the gold green turning
leaves in the cluster
the dense texture
of webbed cob
and spider hiding
in purple
cleavages
of grapes

waiting for taste
some kiss of sun
out of mist
its own web
hanging over the valley

an accident of light
echoing grey hair

succulent
or very real
spider
calculation

to be alive
each chance incident
in the vineyard
a dancing


About the author

Allan Johnston’s recent trips have taken him to southern California (where he grew up—his wife and he hiked to Skull Rock), Vermont (where they tried to get to the top of mountains, but always got rained out), and Montpellier, France. You can find his work in Poetry, Poetry East, Rattle and Rhino.

More in the archive »