Opening
How reverently he removes the seal,
anticipating the fragrance,
the first small taste,
remembering the warmth and
laughter of the party,
parties, the bar, the taverns,
the men, the women,
long-tailed cigarette smoke curling.
His tongue unconsciously caresses
the corner of his mouth
as his left hand cups
the shoulder of the bottle
gently and firmly as a lover.
Drawing a penknife from his pocket
he pulls open the blade to cut
the black band binding the cap,
his lips slightly pursed,
engrossed in the process.
Deftly flicking the cap,
he lays it aside and pauses;
it takes only a moment
for the subtle vapors
to lift to his nostrils.
Not quite a smile,
something even more
expressive of pleasure,
a submission,
a peace that fills him
as if coming home
from an arduous journey.
He pours.
Copyright © Elizabeth Mccann | Year Posted 2022
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