R Soos

after the first drink
the wine bottle pours itself
in my empty glass

+

my guitar greets me
with tunes from the past
my fingers still sing

+

I am a window
you look through to see beyond
this is my mission

+

I write to forget
knowing the words won't be seen
by those who know me

+

I think of nothing
that you haven't thought of too
and that pleases me

 

r soos is an old poet who moves stones in the desert to confound the watching hilltops.