Vineyard of Sanctuary

How could such isolated beauty be so close to overwhelming chaos?
So close to the blur and buzz of people.
Organised rows lie side by side ready for their drizzly end.
But for now, they grow in peace.
Wrapped, winding around their dead cousins, comforting them in death.
Their acidic sour lingers on my tongue,
and I wonder how such a small, immature fruit could leave that impact.
I retreat deeper into the maze to evade the disarray behind me,
crickets drown the no longer live music, and the abundance of grass masks the food trucks.
Dripping jade jewels encompass me, and shiver in the crisp, dark breeze.
They don’t have long before they are plucked,
but they are oblivious and will die blissfully ignorant.