Harvest Moon
shine upon the fields tonight
and give the farmers
longer light
to pull the crops
to thresh the grain
to shear the sheep
for wool again.
The good grape
is plump and ripe
awaiting oaken cask
and dance begins
the stomping feet
stained purple with the task.
Skirts like fans
with blushing knees
wave the frenzies higher
turning grape to ruby wine
they wait the harvest fire
Crackling corn and roasting pig
turn this night to feast
and earth is blessed
with bounty full . . .
the plows can rest in peace.
Joanne Cucinello 2007
