Skoal he says out loud, looking in the mirror.
There’s no one else to toast with or to.
Bought at a local distillery, the blue-corn tequila
with just a hint of green chile and lime.
He hums Smoke on the Water, which he
had heard on the radio earlier, and tries
to remember the band. Rare Earth? No, but . . .
He refills the glass, looks at the clear
liquid left in the bottle, so unlike his life.
He will finish it and have no regrets.
NOTE: "Skoal" and "Smoke on the Water" should be in italics!
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