Libation

How light these glasses we raise
to ring in the New Year
or praise the newlyweds whose lips
hold love with such ease—
an effervescent tease of gravity
with the lift of a wrist.

But that’s levitation—a turn
of ulna and radius to elevate a kiss
of sky as if the stars are saturated
with a brightness we can wring,
swallow to not die like this.
How satisfying to progress

beyond down,
the enlightened now floating
on fancy cruise ships—
sliding it all in to win big
at roulette or pooling chips
to bet on their highest hand.

The poor know their only play
is to cup their palms, catching
the next crush of grapes
from their own down-
trodden souls, then pour out
on the dry dirt. First in—

legs, then torso, sinking arm,
unbent elbow, finally, bowed
head until quenched,
save the red wine stain
on the turned-down collar
of the groom’s festal shirt.

Copyright © 2020 by AJ Saur, from Say the Word (Murmuration Press).