Vineyard Vines
Poem
Tired feet but a full soul
Days of working and tomorrow more
Sun beating down on their backs
Backs shaped into steal and coal
Hands grazing along the vines
Making sweet juices turn into wines
Looking over endless fields of perfect lines
Feeling present in this time
Birds break through the infinite sky
Infinite sky of warn blue dye
Times like these we don’t ask why
In this sweetness let our hearts lie
Photograph by Maja Petric