Vineyard Guards

Roses at each rows ending (Photo: Faye Sarras)

Cotton felt beneath my knees
Rolled like months and years
Behind me sometimes
Liquid memory stilled
Fruit left sun collecting
Minerals through roots drawn
Roses at each rows ending
Planted beauty, wine protecting.

Dr T.P. Wilkinson writes, teaches History and English, directs theatre and coaches cricket between the cradles of Heine and Saramago. He is also the author of Church Clothes, Land, Mission and the End of Apartheid in South Africa. Read other articles by T.P..