Swooping over landscapes, uncovering the best terroir. The self-assured, strutting, superhero to the oenophile, who puts his fellow mortals to shame . He will stop at nothing to find the best grapes – flying under the Hunter’s Moon.
By Ted Kooser
Above us, stars. Beneath us, constellations.
Five billion miles away, a galaxy dies
like a snowflake falling on water. Below us,
some farmer, feeling the chill of that distant death,
snaps on his yard light, drawing his sheds and barn
back into the little system of his care.
All night, the cities, like shimmering novas,
tug with bright streets at lonely lights like