Rot
When night’s hot breath
touches the grapes
ripening in the field,
grey spores attack,
and a fungus spreads.
Botrytis, a “noble rot,”
shrivels fruit on the vine.
Some grapes need
to be diseased.
Harvested late, they possess
a concentrated sweetness,
the flavor of orange blossoms,
ambrosia and honeydew.
I enjoy this Riesling chilled,
with spicy Thai food
or fresh strawberries.
A toast! To wine! To rot!
Near Año Nuevo
After a storm, low clouds,
shards of grey slate
crowd the sky. A woman
rises from the water
and enters air that stings
like the first sip of Champagne.
She follows footholds
carved into shale cliffs
and reaches an open field
where men uproot a field
of dead-nettle to plant grapes,
a civilizing vine. Salt
sings on the air, then settles
on trees and open fields,
strawberries, and artichokes,
those overgrown thistles
with tender hearts.
Bees dip their tongues
into wildflowers,
their wings spreading
spores of yeast that settle
over rows of ribboned vines.
The grapes mature. Men gather
clusters of Chardonnay,
thick bunches that hang
close to the dry earth.
The few grapes left unpicked
ferment on the vines.
The woman closes her eyes,
places a single piece of fruit
in her mouth—acidic,
sweet, sharp on the tongue.
Jake Young lives in Santa Cruz, California, and works at Beauregard Vineyards in the Santa Cruz Mountains. He Received his MFA at North Carolina State University. His most recent work appears or is forthcoming in Red Wheelbarrow, Miramar, Solo Novo, PANK, Vine Leaves Literary Journal, phren-Z, and Gastronomica: Journal of Food and Culture. He was recently invited to the 2014 Djerassi Resident Artists Program.
When night’s hot breath
touches the grapes
ripening in the field,
grey spores attack,
and a fungus spreads.
Botrytis, a “noble rot,”
shrivels fruit on the vine.
Some grapes need
to be diseased.
Harvested late, they possess
a concentrated sweetness,
the flavor of orange blossoms,
ambrosia and honeydew.
I enjoy this Riesling chilled,
with spicy Thai food
or fresh strawberries.
A toast! To wine! To rot!
Near Año Nuevo
After a storm, low clouds,
shards of grey slate
crowd the sky. A woman
rises from the water
and enters air that stings
like the first sip of Champagne.
She follows footholds
carved into shale cliffs
and reaches an open field
where men uproot a field
of dead-nettle to plant grapes,
a civilizing vine. Salt
sings on the air, then settles
on trees and open fields,
strawberries, and artichokes,
those overgrown thistles
with tender hearts.
Bees dip their tongues
into wildflowers,
their wings spreading
spores of yeast that settle
over rows of ribboned vines.
The grapes mature. Men gather
clusters of Chardonnay,
thick bunches that hang
close to the dry earth.
The few grapes left unpicked
ferment on the vines.
The woman closes her eyes,
places a single piece of fruit
in her mouth—acidic,
sweet, sharp on the tongue.
Jake Young lives in Santa Cruz, California, and works at Beauregard Vineyards in the Santa Cruz Mountains. He Received his MFA at North Carolina State University. His most recent work appears or is forthcoming in Red Wheelbarrow, Miramar, Solo Novo, PANK, Vine Leaves Literary Journal, phren-Z, and Gastronomica: Journal of Food and Culture. He was recently invited to the 2014 Djerassi Resident Artists Program.