Poetry

Grape-treader Time,
Bald curator of joys
Plucked ere a prime;
Whose guest the weevil is,

The cat nosed around the hummingbird
but didn’t want him. Sweet bird,
his throat feathers go black

Over the past fourteen days how many days have you felt
        blue?
For none of the time for some of the time for all of the time for all time