(for Wendy and Bob Biale)
With lunch I had Biale Zinfandel—
The Party Line, 2010 the year—
And knew as I imbibed that, in my sphere,
This was a brilliant light, a sounding bell,
More promising than any wishing well
Or victory of causes I hold dear.
It didn’t make the dark world disappear—
But did prove that I was not yet in Hell.
Some time has passed. It’s now mid-afternoon—
And the world is as gloomy as before.
Soon, I know, I shall sing the mournful tune
I hold within my serpent’s heart. My lore
Is weighty, and I read a dismal rune.
It’s time, I’m sure, to pour myself some more.