wine

Sipping a Hawkes Cabernet.  On floor, seated, hear kids outside playing wondering why they aren’t yet in bed.  But then I lose interest in them, in this street.  I can only see my Roads, the paths out there, at wineries I’ve never heard of or before seen.  Life just fold to the next day, forgetting me, forgetting we, completely.  So I write what I can, kids upstairs asleep and wife wondering how long I’ll be up writing like I do.. “Bed early?” She asks.  I get annoyed when I know I shouldn’t but I do as all I need is some time, and time wins but I can trap it, right now, with keys and a glass of AV Cabernet…