I am an honest fool with little left
of any worth fit for measure and,
under the simple rule of a crooked thumb,
my harvest cannot tip a scale
against the treasures of the better man...yet
I, who through many orchards in search of windfalls
have pursued, can still raise a finger...
or maybe a glass of hobgoblin and
outdrink the wealth and riches
that more sober men than I accrued.
