With scented branches —

crowned by ripened nuts,

fertile earth still reigns —

in stones and stories told,

in vineyards everywhere.

Each rocky face tells a legend –

shadowed by long-setting suns.

Left with a few stolen kisses

–hidden in cold stands of pine —

Ruby’s memories lift her up now,

far above the crumbling ramparts —

where her bravery still lives.

. . . . .

Poet: Susan Powers Bourne

Source: Prolocomontalcino

Process: Excerpt and remix