Being Stoppered Poem by gershon hepner
Being Stoppered
Nostalgic always, often disenchanted,
I feel I am a wine that’s been decanted
and left around to breathe, not being stoppered,
my bouquet fading, bottom left uncoppered,
yet if you’d only drink me with your eyes
you’d find my vintage rocks, and love the role
I try to play, while whispering no lies
as I pass you my world cup, crying “Gol! ”
6/22/06
Thursday, June 22, 2006
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4/17/2024 8:48:33 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Bring it on, then! (the show that is) . Neat poem. See you next Thursday. Love, Gina.