Sometimes when one gets a really striking image it's hard to let it go, even if after the thing is written it doesn't quite work. But the joy of language is things can always be recycled! :)
I have no idea why, but the grape picking somehow made me think of Wendell Berry's Water (one of my favourite poems)... Perhaps because the thought of grape picking evokes a Steinbeckian sort of vista for me. (Fear of dust in my mouth is always with me, and I am the faithful husband of the rain, I love the water of wells and springs and the taste of roofs in the water of cisterns.)
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Date: 2010-08-24 02:51 pm (UTC)I have no idea why, but the grape picking somehow made me think of Wendell Berry's Water (one of my favourite poems)... Perhaps because the thought of grape picking evokes a Steinbeckian sort of vista for me.
(Fear of dust in my mouth is always with me,
and I am the faithful husband of the rain,
I love the water of wells and springs
and the taste of roofs in the water of cisterns.)