Terroir - Nov 4 2023

 

Terroir

Nov 4 2023

Even uprooted,

traces of soil

still cling to me.

Even having moved

from the low light

and cool damp

of where I was raised,

it's still the one place

I feel at home.

I am vintage grapes,

shaped

by these origins.

The elevation

and weather,

the angry storms;

temperate,

but prone to furies.

And now, on this hot dry plain

it's too cold

not nearly green enough.

I feel oppressed

by endless sun,

exposed

under bottomless skies

so blue

they seem unnatural.

My molecules were shaped, atoms formed

in those first callow years.

I am wine, in its bottle,

and contain the cool mist

and rich black soil

of where I was grown,

every change recorded

every day preserved

like sedimentary layers

all the way down.

As unique

as vintage grapes

from that year's harvest;

complex and surprising,

and certainly not

to everyone's taste.

Remove my cork

and breathe in my aroma.

Take slow deep sips,

and only then

will you know me.