Published in Overland Issue 208 Spring 2012 Main Posts Picking Grapes Paula Green dawn starts up the sound of a tractor between my legs buckets to fill the grid of days marked out before us the boss a barrel living in fear of rain at the wrong time a lisp spraying poison across a row of pickers back for more insults? we snip the wind snip the sun hanging red liquid autumn crushing drops of light stored in bunches thigh to thigh with a man dark-skinned eyes moving along the rows touchy feely fingers creeping through the vines shadow hands reaching up the skirts of leaves then stripping them off flat on my back at smoko a rhythm in the pulse of the season rotting down wine-black the river pouring through the legend of vintage in a straight line Paula Green Paula Green lives on the East Gippsland coast writing songs and poems. More by Paula Green Overland is a not-for-profit magazine with a proud history of supporting writers, and publishing ideas and voices often excluded from other places. If you like this piece, or support Overland’s work in general, please subscribe or donate. Related articles & Essays First published in Overland Issue 228 11 November 202211 November 2022 Main Posts On the last day of Subscriberthon, our amazing online editor gives you one last (very good) reason to subscribe Editorial team What's in store for the last day of Subscriberthon? First published in Overland Issue 228 10 November 202210 November 2022 Main Posts On the second-last day of Subscriberthon, our favourite editor-duo give you reason #1002 to subscribe to Overland Editorial team What's in store for the second-last day of Subscriberthon?