Single MaltThe cask was sealedThe bung firm’73? No, more like ’74 or ‘75. The mix not right, The blend Bellbottom jeans, scotch coloredHalter, peace sign engraved on leather Headband.Not quiteAmber. Time in the oak barrel Lost. Aging, aging.We tried.We bought the corn.The copper; the oak.We thought we knew.Who knew? The corn was moldy, The copper, green.The cooper failed.Walks on the Erie, Love by the Ontario not quite ambertime equals space, three feet away. Thirty years away. A fiery amber ounce away. I write, right? And claimall of the privilegesthe Napkin Poet deserves.
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