Treasure Island

Dilantha Gunawardana


The Wine Glass


I've always chosen to gaze at my glass of life
Not as half-empty but as half-filled
Enclosing not a reservoir of fresh water
But a dispensed body of luscious red wine
Conceived not of sour grapes
But the succulence of flavor
Bestowed by the divine sweetness of Muscat berries
Yet in spite of my lust for life
I have slippery hands
And I don’t know at what fateful moment
Wine will spill on my veranda floor
Amidst the scatter of broken glass

Submitted: Tuesday, April 23, 2013
Edited: Friday, September 27, 2013

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  • Tiku . (4/23/2013 11:56:00 PM)

    beautiful ink.there is a message hidden in it.liked the flow and concept. (Report) Reply

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