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(Lisbon, Portugal)

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Black and Bubbles

So many faces and growing minds
pass through one's halls and rooms.
Then, they are gone
and new ones come
as autumn flowers bloom

Years storm in and rustle out;
I catch the breeze or miss

a memory

some like before,
a story shared, a twist

So many faces and growing minds
are much of what I've learned,
'though some float past
with their effect,
my endless nest to stir

Two stopped by the other day,
poured in a classic drink:
a simple glass
all black and bubbles
with one red drop in it

Of all the faces and growing minds,
these two I won't forget
as long as there's
a simple glass
with all those things in it.

Submitted: Wednesday, July 24, 2013
Edited: Thursday, July 25, 2013

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