A bottle moves

A bottle moves

It lies, unspeaking,
A model of red along a line
Of wine boxes in Spanish,
Sleeping spoons with
Its sisters and brothers
Same blood, similar casing

It’s in the kitchen
On the red and white linoleum
Watching the cooking
Sustaining, uncorked,
Waiting to be served and
To serve.

The good soldier,
It’s the quiet child at the doctor’s,
Taking the shaking screw
Stoically, even with
Accommodation, then
Drinking the fresh air

Dinner awaits.
The bottle hums a tune
Decanted in engraved
Pewter, a mistress posing
On butcher block.
Dinner awaits.

It breathes
Near the cherry unit supporting
His old friends a marble
Fish from Spain
Beach lavender
A cruel Punchinello

Those intoxications of
Another day, earlier
Cousins, grape grandparents,
Children of our earth,
Intoxications, those lovely
Times, so simple and kind.