The night winds down,
The inebriated and buzzed have retired,
Leaving you in the alehouse,
Only you and your beer,
Your pint-sized oracle,
Cupped in your hands,
An amber scrying pool,
Carbonated images on its surface,

As soon as your lips touch the liquid,
Magic happens,
Memories come flooding back,
Like so much ethanol,
Every kiss ever shared,
Every mountain ever climbed,
Every project ever aced,
Each failure for some balance,

The drink plays these photo rolls in your head,
Leaving you with this,
A cloak of reminders,
To keep you warm on the way home.

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