Full Bellies and Mature Relationships                                                          

                                                                                                      

Alone at the end of the evening

Snifter of amber liquid in my hand

Smooth and warm flowing down my gullet

Until it comes to rest on Filet Mignon and Crème Brule

Flat screen monitor

Illuminating my face in the dark of night

The keyboard calls to me, the blank page­­–mocks me.

The poet smiles back at them –with confidence.

Hours pass like minutes

Rivers of rhyme flow like mighty torrents

Muddy rivers suddenly run clear

With the changing of –just— one—word.

Never truly alone, on any evening.

Amber liquid, Keyboard, Flat Screen Monitor

And the sweet kiss of the one I love, fresh upon my lips

As she leaves me to my writing, and goes upstairs to bed.