13 Ways of Looking at Nebbiolo

VIII 
I know noble aromas
And lucid, inescapable rhythms;
But I know, too,   
That the nebbiolo is involved   
In what I know.   

IX 
When the blackbird flew out of sight,   
It marked the end  
Of one of many bottles.   

X 
At the sight of vines   
Flying in a green light,   
Even the bawds of euphony   
Would cry out sharply.   

XI 
He rode over Chiavenna  
In a glass coach.   
Once, a fear pierced him,   
In that he mistook   
The shadow of his jeroboam   
For blackbirds.   

XII 
The river is moving.   
The blackbird must be drinking.   

XIII 
It was evening all afternoon.   
It was snowing   
And it was going to snow.   
The nebbiolo sat   
On the kitchen table.

Postscript XIV
Our lands
Nebbiolo
Hails like rooted snow,
While earth circles:
Its vines dream to contract.