Wild Grapes

Come into the bright morning – listen

there is no empty nest; every throbbing
throat in this yellowing wood is roaring
or whining – warning and waking you

bring every last worry and wish and admit
you’re wrong – you’ve been wrong all along
in so many seasons of sobriety – planting
caution, staking joy – it’s harvest time

walk toward this ending breathing deeply
into the dried basket of your belly where the
root of surprise is stored

let the gutsy scent of these wild grapes make
you fall down drunk with ecstasy –

the tomorrow you’ve been expecting will not come



About the Author, Kelly DuMar:
Kelly’s plays, short stories and poems are inspired by nature, family, and her belief in the artistry of shared stories to transform individuals and communities. Recent publications include short stories in “Sliver of Stone,” 'Open Road Review' "Literary Mama," “Red Earth Review,” poems in "Lingerpost,” "Blast Furnace," “*82 Review,” “Emerge,” “Apeiron,” “Sugared Water,” and “Ginosko,” as well as short plays by Art Age and “Foxing Quarterly." Kelly founded and produces the Our Voices Festival of Women Playwrights at Wellesley College, now in its 8th year. Her website is www.kellydumar.com, and she tweets @myenvia.