Poem: Skol

 

Skol

 

aged

through decadent flavors,

the sins of wine grow light,

 

devils and angels

slip robes to kiss,

happy in their error.

 

we revellers

of doomed heat,

we soon-starved flames,

 

let our lusts savor

and flare to quest,

down to the last dregs

of clove, nutmeg 

and thyme.

a cup

 

to that first seductive sip,

and to that last glooming frisson

of spent shudders.

 

a cup,

 

let us drink,

brave as this moment

prays we are.

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7/15/25 changed a word

7/1/25 ... mods

4/14/25 ... changed up the spice line