POEM

 

Just now the sun extended to me a glass

of elderberry wine.

I shut the eyes and sipped and wassailed.

I opened the eyes: the world ain't there anymore,

not even my books and the sea.

Circe and Helen smirked

staring at my solitude. 

I bit a golden apple.

And the vast Time got distorted, dwindled

to becoming a blade of grass.