Wine Cave

Wine Cave
By: James Dubeau

Sprinkled across
Hard wood walls
Little caves
Of joy

In a pattern
Of polka dots
Zigzagging
Here and there

With uniformity
But yet chaos
In those dark caverns

As corks and caps
Do emerge
Protruding
From those walls

No pattern
Could predict
Which was filled
Or which was empty

Necks reached out
Yearning for me
My grasp
My caress

Drawing my eyes
Back and forth
From the many caverns

The green one
The gold one
Or maybe the blue

Which one shall be mine
Which one shall I consume
Which one shall I take home

Closing my eyes
I reached gently
As if caressing a lover

My trembling hand
Returned the bottle
From the wood wall

I held it close
Not wanting to drop
My new found treasure
Of joy