The Crew: Deah Behler, Evan Rose, Terri McConnell Bastin, Pat Hornak-Skvarla, Donna Gunn, Bill Skvarla, Jake and Jenny Grisham

In the Vineyard
A poem by Annette Januzzi Wick, 9/18/07
Read more at www.IllBeintheCar.com

We pitch our worn out blankets
and nylon sports chairs
expecting some main event.
But life unfolds in sips
and the young singer on stage
sounds better by the glass.

Mom is dancing with hips
held together by screws.
She is sliding her heels
back and forth
across an already worn path
singing
I got the St Louis Blues.

The music drifts across
fields where horses trot
and donkeys bray.
A few Seyval grapes still cling to the vines
on this dry September night.

Mom forgets that she forgets things.
And so do we,
on this autumn night
when she looks at me
like we are young lovers
and speaks too loud,
over the strum of the guitar
and a wine called Serenade,
and calls out, I love you.

If all romance
could be this simple
and so full of music
as on this night.