Why wine
so many gallons of it, of highest quality,
smooth but potent: where did it come from?
the servants who filled the jars with water
have the clue, but must keep mum;
most guests, incurious, gratefully quaff it
he’d first refused his mother’s hint, but she
told the servants to do whatever he said,
confident, it seemed, in his generosity,
not to say frivolity, in using such power,
towards hospitality, even drunkenness
since this time and place, wine
can claim religious respectability,
and must be on the menu of any posthumous paradise,
as ambrosial at least as that at Cana,
with the tasteful byline ‘a little taste of heaven’
Copyright © A lost Poet | Year Posted 2024
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