"Silk from a Sow's Ear," he said

the winterest person had the sun shined
and he missed me still, not dead, not alive
stood there not knowing which hand to place
in which pocket, which grapeseed shadow
to hold onto, '07 was a very long year
for us all and then there was '08. What's
one or two more we asked, unsuspecting.
By now we get it is clearly not going to end
this dismal class of people we'd become
could not accept or give, apologies,
he said what do you know!
A war all about her! Had I not warned them?
What would suffice then?  A bed of roses?

My head?

.