Whites and Reds

Kneegee_croppedby twdhughes14 Jan 2015

Rosé has no look in,
being neither one thing
nor the other
in this philosophy of absolutes.

We sip wines
older than the Orange Revolution,
and discuss domaines, polarising
like the Donetsk People's Republic.

Or like the martyrs of Petrograd,
that defector Nureyev,
or any populist leader.
Your relatives have no running water.

Novorossiya
is no place for young people now;
claret courses old men's dreams,
spills to the floor, soaking snow.

Here, cork sticks in bottle.
Red hot tongs ring the neck.
Then, a sodden feather strokes
and the collar cracks.