“spruced up in nice grape leaves”

—She was walking
around the centre,
the distilled vine
Spruced up in nice
grape leaves, oh my!
The hell with all the
bad thoughts
I’ll gladly stop for a drink,
she talks.
A stranger approached
her while sitting at the counter
Do you remember me, Milady?
said the hunter
I’m sorry, honestly,
I’m mortified, oh God.
I think I hit the bottle
and already forgot.
It must have been both,
grappa and beer?
She asked the glass,
but it was empty, the dear! —