slight chance of rain
the sun she is setting
radiating a cloudless sky
casting a spectrum of colors
before my tired eyes
within arms reach
a jar of whiskey speaks to me
whispering my name
like my lover used to do
the sun she has fallen
taking with her promises
of meteor showers
and brighter tomorrows
the whiskey ages
in my unstoppable dreams
slowly separating from the jar
as the night rages on
april two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 
Really liked this. Sentiment is there without being sentimental. Well done.
Thank you, Jonathan, I’m glad you enjoyed this one.