Merlot

Dear dark bitter wine,
Take these thick damp clover questions,
Cast my pondering, upon the arch of the raven's wings,
Fade them bloody juice to skyward oblivion.

For I can no longer be chewed to the bone
With midnight's hidden longings.
My hazy hazel lenses hang on
To empty hollowed scribbling.

I must cheat one night,
Oh grapes be true and kind,
Away, now raven in flight
The blackest sleep for the grayest mind.