Wine, how I’ve missed thee.
by Gilbert Keith
On a warm spring day,
The dogs fidget about,
Avoiding the rain clouds that weigh,
Tongues hanging from their snouts.
The human, in his langor a bottle of wine uncorks;
And relishes the cheap Aldi’s saltines.
The langor devolves to torpor, makes him a dork
But never does he cause a scene.