Maker's Mark

[couchgrouch]

Maker's MarkMorning's sun was a peacockstrutting, prideful and strongit posed for me while fanningthe painted feathers of dawnit seemed while it was risingthat it soothed the chill of nightbut I found the warmth it gave mewas just a trick of the lightand I learned my lover's beautywas steely, cold and darkso now I sit in shadowwith shot after shot of Maker's Marklike a dusty well-diggerwith a tree branch witching rodmen depend on prayer and scriptureto divine the truth of Godyet I once believed a womanwas all I could be certain ofbut how can heaven be truthfulif there's no truth in loveothers say life is a circleor a shooting star's shining arcbut mine's been straight as the edgesand dark as a jug of Maker's Markif choice is mind over matterdoes it matter what I door is it a fool who questionsthe sky he must answer toI'm at the end of my tetherwhen life is a dead end streetI suppose meeting my Makeris the way to make ends meetbut when his heart dries of bourbonand leaves his dreams barren and starkit's then a man remembershis own conscience is the Maker's mark(c)2004 Robert George