I

I still remember when thirty was old.
My biggest fear was September; when he had to go.
A few cards, and letters, and one long-distance call.
We drifted away like the leaves in the fall.
But year after year I come back to this place.
Just to remember the taste...
Of Strawberry Wine.
Seventeen.
The hot July moon.
Saw everything.
My first taste of love.
Whoa, bitter-sweet.
The green on the vine.
Like Strawberry Wine.


--Strawberry Wine
Deanna Carter