Sunday Poem: A Harvest of Hops

An Occasional Feature of the Channel Surfing Blog

This poem ran in Hops: Herb of the Year 2018.

I wrote it at the request of its editor.

Harvest of Hops

1.
Vines twine trellises. Green
seed cones dangle
hairy-limbed above neat rows.

The harvest begins. Machines
sever vines from earth, free
them from stakes, drop
them into truck beds.

2.
It's all in the hops,
he says, sips the sweet
juice, swirls sediment.

First step, soak barley.
Steep like tea -- they call it
mashing. Boil in hops.
Yeast. Catalyze, ferment.
Drink. 

3.
We do. More than one.
Crack open bottles, cans,
pour. Watch the gases rise,
the sediment settle.
Breath in the bitter
air. Drink. Yes. Drink.