A healthy pour
Red, a Merlot,
Full-bodied.
I knew the first taste
Before lifting the glass
To waiting lips,
And then
One awkward,
Thoughtless move
Sent the crystal
Lurching,
Slow-motion, yet
Too fast for old
Fingers to find
Purchase,
And wine went
EVERYWHERE:
The floor
Countertop
Inside cupboards
And drawers.
All over my khakis,
The ones with elastic
At the ankles
Harem girl style,
My favorites.
And saddest of all?
There was no wine
Left in the
Bottle.
Doing the best I can with what I have
kind of sad, but not so bad with cheese. cheese not provided.
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MARK PETRUSKA | WRITER
Short essays about novels and other fictional works
By Ian Garrabrant
Home of Micropoetry, Literature, art and philosophy.
Just a fiction writer, trying to reach the world.
I'd curtsy but I'm drunk.
Praying for Eyebrowz 
I feel the pain!
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The struggle is real.
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I forwarded your post to a couple of friends who I know would empathise. They mainly said “Lesson number one. Always have another bottle of wine available.”
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🤣😂🤣
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oops.. .. I hope you had another one stashed somewhere….??
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No! And it was too late to go for another bottle!
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Rookie mistake! 🙂
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And I’m no rookie…
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My lord, I feel your pain.
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Lol!
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Love it, especially the ending. A very sad ending, indeed.
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‘Twas one of the saddest moments of my life.
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See, you can write a post that is deep and meaningful and get maybe one comment. Write about spilled wine and no more in the house … everyone comments!
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That’s the way it works.
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It’s about 11.15 am here on Sunday, eastern Australia. We must be about 11 hours in difference???
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It’s 8:16 p.m. on Saturday in Tallahassee, Florida.
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I wonder if this could have been prevented by simply drinking straight from the bottle…;)
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🤔
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That’s why I drink white… out of a box. 🙂
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Good idea.
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