when i leave, i hope my light burns the brightest
gabriel duncan

ease the ridicule
as the wind begins to go
like a frightened sparrow
trapped behind a window
certain safety close but far away
trapped for one last day

ease the blinding pain
so that i may walk again
among the grand vins stalks
whose providence lies plain
in plots,
it rots in the terroir

flutter not so hard
there's no bard to purity
no extraordinary weigh-in
maillard offers no obscurity
just a lacquered box
and a printed effigy