Drought, Chianti, 2003

By Alexis Czencz

"It has not rained for months"
the browned man says. His worn finger
points at a trickle in the ditch.
Muscles, defined, reveal hard years
packed away behind his chalky gaze.
He crosses both hands behind his head:
"We lose the grapes in twenty days."

Castello Uzzano probes the skyline
with gray stone towers, reaching
upward through miles of olive groves.
Taut ropes on the hillside stretch nets
between thin trees to keep their fruit
from spilling. Each jewel caught and cradled
as ravines carve sharp, dividing stepped terrain.

More withered fruit. One citrine bead
glows, sun-stunted and plucked early
from the vine. He rolls it, warm, down
each line of my palm. Povera cosa,
its juice seeps down my lifeline’s
rivulets—wet contrast to those wrinkled
leaves, yellowed. Fading miles of trees.
"Bella," he sighs, examining my face,
"you could be from here."

_____________________________________________________________

Alexis Czencz is a second-year M.F.A. student at Hollins University. She has been
published in the SU Review, Essay Magazine, and Thoreau's Rooster. As of late, she
spends her time revising poems for a chapbook with the working title, "Thesis."


	Drought, Chianti, 2003 By Alexis Czencz "It has not rained for months" the browned man says. His worn finger points at a trickle in the ditch. Muscles, defined, reveal hard years packed away behind his chalky gaze. He crosses both hands behind his head: "We lose the grapes in twenty days." Castello Uzzano probes the skyline with gray stone towers, reaching upward through miles of olive groves. Taut ropes on the hillside stretch nets between thin trees to keep their fruit from spilling. Each jewel caught and cradled as ravines carve sharp, dividing stepped terrain. More withered fruit. One citrine bead glows, sun-stunted and plucked early from the vine. He rolls it, warm, down each line of my palm. Povera cosa, its juice seeps down my lifeline’s rivulets—wet contrast to those wrinkled leaves, yellowed. Fading miles of trees. "Bella," he sighs, examining my face, "you could be from here." _____________________________________________________________ Alexis Czencz is a second-year M.F.A. student at Hollins University. She has been published in the SU Review, Essay Magazine, and Thoreau's Rooster. As of late, she spends her time revising poems for a chapbook with the working title, "Thesis."