Bottle the warmth
of late August
sunshine,
stow it where
no one
will guess.
When the sub-zero
midwestern storm
attacks,
uncap the sample–
stay warm
until the thaw.
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j matthew waters
copyright nineteen ninety-three
all rights reserved
i am never alone
as long as beer
is nearby
whether she be
in the refrigerator
or at the corner store
after a long day at work
i try to recall
the night before
wonder if any beer
is left before i stop
to buy some more
at happy hour
my friends say
final final final
as we clank
our frosty mugs
to toast another round
when life is less bright
i cry in my beer
and swallow my tears
but when life is grand
i raise my hand
to give praise with a beer
some say heaven
there is no beer
but i say
to hell with that
please bury me
with six pack in hand
august two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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