(no subject)

I sit on the steps at dawn and watch as the colour slowly drains from the sky, runs from the sun, back over the hills until night comes again.
Concrete cold on the heels of my feet and dawn air fresh in my lungs clears my head, clears my heart.
I raise my glass to the stars that still linger.
Here's to good times past. Here's to good times coming.
And with a glass full of sky, I drink.

(no subject)

You're the bubbles in the champagne of life.