Ode to a Well Poured Beer (2009)

Through the crush of the crowd
A twenty in my hand
Against the well worn bar I lean
And wait

The barman grasps the glass
Starting the ritual
His hand grips the icy cold tap
And pulls

Fire and froth issue forth
Roasted amber fluid
Within the glass it courses, swirls
And foams

White bubbles wind higher
Inch by steady inch
Until the clouds pass over the lip 
And fall

Nestled now in my hand
I raise the well poured beer
Open my mouth, take a drink
And smile.