Preservation

--Liz Ahl

       

I cover everything with brine

to make it last, to make it stay,

to make the summer harvest mine.

I strip each stem, I pluck each vine,

I wash and peel and slice away,

and cover everything with brine.

With salt and sugar I combine

some mustard seed or caraway

to make the summer harvest mine

before the autumn's dark decline.

To ward off ruin and decay,

I cover everything with brine

like salty tears. I will resign

myself to hopeful chemistry

and make the summer harvest mine.

Is it like making water wine?

Is it some other old cliché?

I cover everything with brine.

In August, when the stars align

I point and name them, far away,

their light a summer harvest, mine

and yours. I want their sharpened shine.

To make it last, to make you stay,

I cover everything with brine.

I make the summer harvest mine.