44/365

cycled to the
neighbourhood italian place
to share a bottle of wine
with friends,
while nursing a headache.

chit chatter
and lemonchello,
a cool
breeze
the perfect companion
home.

how many moments
of joy must we collect,
before we call off the search
and confess to a lifetime
of happiness?

middle aged
contentment and equanimity
have seldom been
the muse for worthwhile poems.

but they keep falling into my lap
and all i can do is gather them
in my pocket,
until the day i might need
things as simple as:

wine.
breezes.
bikes.  
placid platitudes
and peace.