Hail, Talisker and Cragganmore,
my merry, merry may be blessed
the day, the night and like before
the morning as a humble guest
will deal yet stranger hands of cards.
Salute to you, my amber friends.
In your embrace before it starts
my trouble sinks and drowns and ends
exactly like my recollection
of this nocturnal vivisection.
The amber friends are two bottles of whisky in a rack of the bar of the Hotel Berlin, Berlin. Instead of emptying them I simply watched them, sipped a little and had them inspire me to this poem.Authors comment
All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Arne Bister.
Published on e-Stories.org on 02.12.2008.
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