His English is as gnarled
as his rough twisted fingers.
Identity prints that held dreams.

He is too old
to be taken seriously;
too wise
to be made fun of.

I hand him dark red wine
and though
we both drink -
he holds the glass
full of awe.Mine hold is
unstable.

Then he passes me his glass
for one small sip
and the flavor
is aged perfection
that only
the vintner of promise
can blend.