What is the best grape fate?
What’s the ideal destiny?
To be eaten, plucked individually from a bundle by the sunned hand of a Florida retiree,
Or to be left, rotting and withering slowly on the vine before dropping shrouded seed?
To be preserved, in a vitrine cell on the pantry shelf,
Or to be mulched, uneaten leftovers of a third-grade lunch?
Is it more noble to be paired with peanut butter than spread on stark wheat toast?
What’s the true nature of the fruit
When it heeds the call of grapeness?
