Out of the dark it slaps
My face, the smell
Cigarettes and beer
I breathe like I’ve clawed
My way to fresh air
My fingers drip condensation,
ice wet on the glass,
Unseen amber torch held aloft
Leading out of lost.
This poem is thanks to Magpie Tales
Love the image of clawing your way to fresh air.
ReplyDeleteI'll have another amber torch, please...
ReplyDeleteNice write. A good, brief ode to the wonders of beer. Well done. :-)
ReplyDeleteThere is so much hope what the night will bring.. and usually the beer left a hangover... but yet again we tried...
ReplyDeleteLovely take on the prompt
ReplyDelete