Pink

Homeric sunrise sometimes makes us think

Venus didn’t wash her hands in the sink.

Spring blossoms like sunrise make us think,

Promising plum, peach, nectarine, in sync.

While this bloom that by its own name’s distinct

At end of the day still raises a stink.

These bubbles that swarm when long glasses clink

Are the very air, the grapes’ missing link;

Taken to excess they lead to the brink –

That fellow’s cheek’s much the worse for drink.

Indeed, skin is susceptible, can shrink

Wrinkled with cold; while with heat, smear zinc.

An apple a day straightens out the kinks –

What am I? asks this faded rubric ink.