Red Wine

Full bodied, rich and blood red in the glass, on sunlit crystal stem bird-like it sat, pavement cafe, letting time slowly pass as people stared, they had no time for that. The first few sips were frequent, unrestrained like fervent lover kissing new conquest, until a few drops left, little remained, slowing to bid farewell to treasured guest. The years, too flowed like new wine from the gourd only the moment mattered, way back when the march of time was readily ignored, if what we know now we had known back then. Our story writ, the pen runs out of ink. Youth, cherish life, it's shorter than you think.