An Ode to Wine

I drink her when she’s pretty,

Glowing ruby, smooth, she’s deathly bloody,

In my home or in a new and starry city.

The City of Pretty

My friend and I woke up at an ungodly hour to catch the first train out. We had packed our staple out-and-about lunch of ham and cheese sandwiches, bananas, and huge red strawberries.

Lazy Lager

The large, glass-walled cafe was the first thing we saw as the ferry pulled onto the shore. It had snowed the previous night and the ground was covered in barely-there crystals, melting fast under the noon heat. We had tickets to go up the observation tower next to the cafe, but found ourselves edging closer…