A POEM BY TJ WORTHINGTON

          DRINKING IN THE MOUNTAINS


          I am caught in the hold of this hammock,

          drunk on a bottle and a half of wine,

          stretched between two pines

          high in the Blue Ridge Mountains.

          The sky is blurred in the pool

          by hundreds of water-spider wakes,

          the trees' reflections cut the mirror in two.

          There, in the shade, the goldfish

          wave their tails and disappear into light

          like the face in dreams

          I forget the instant I see it.

          The clouds unravel on one side,
 
          the fish swim through trees on the other.

          I hoist my bottle to full sail;

          the glass mouth is warm on my lips,
            
          our tongues play,

          bubbles rise from my head,

          in them I see myself and the world vanish.



                                 ----TJ Worthington

 

 

 

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