Wine is poetry in a bottle.
The lines of each poem
Escape mouths of sippers
Who need to tell you
About bouquet, aroma,
Fruit, nuts, or hints of spice
From aged wooden barrels.

Strange, if you don’t taste
All detectable to those palettes.
It’s like, if you don’t get baseball,
Listening to one explain
Theories of pitching,
Philosophies of hitting,
Strikes, balls, fair, and foul.

Tell me about poetry and wine;
I’ll tell you about baseball,
Betting we each talk subtleties –
Swirling, twirling, breathing, timing-
Find common ground,
Working our way through
A glass or two or three–
An inning.