- J. Johnson asked for a sonnet about sailboats, time, grape leaves, and red hair. So I give you...
The Last Redhead
The world's last redhead flees the forest pines.
- For months she hasn't had a night of sleep.
- The melody of windsong sounds like whines.
- The fairies and their dances make her weep.
- When she was younger, everywhere she saw
- bright manes like hers reflected in relations.
- Now hers seems like a monstrous tragic flaw.
- She stands right out in any situation.
- She finds the ocean, nestles down, and grieves –
- nowhere for her to go but to the sea.
- Then she recalls the bundle of strong leaves
- she gathered at the local winery.
- Now alone, upon a grape-leaf boat,
- the world's last redhead voyages afloat.