the hours pass like waves by a sandy beach
the hours pass like waves by a barren shoal
the hours slow like the man behind the tow line
sinking into the water, slow
the hours sing like grapes brought in from the grapevine
the hours sing like drinks clinking, one against the other
the hours taste like wind bottled up in wine
wine in five layers, each leaving, eddies swirling away
the hours write all night and sleep all day
hours and hours and hours, thrown away
the hours like the singsong voice of may
quickly passing, her voice hastened -- sing while you may!
the hours like a drunk sin
the blurring of the room
and thoughts waning, i feel that i've been rolled up in cotton balls
and swirling in the sink, would this drink leave my blood?
the nights pass like it would hurt them to hasten
the days pass like i had never known them
the years pass and i should've hidden from you
for now i am hurt and i linger here
the years pass and i could've saved them
the years pass; should i have known them?
but it is all the same now
without you, thunder rolling in through the rain
i hear nothing at all, save your voice
could it be the same,
again?

 "Wine," Connelly Barnes, 2007-06-02