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.
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