Champagne Rivers

I see long alleyways, and simple sidewalks
with cracks that extend to the edge of the earth
and bears popping champagne bottles
spraying the white canvases left behind
on forest trails for pelicans to find

I see champagne rivers and glass ponds
broken with the stones thrown by toddlers
watching the moon set on the other side
of fragile dreams held together by yarn

I see the wolves, and hear their howls
piercing the tranquility of foggy nights
creating storm clouds that drench us all
in champagne downpours and silver scenes
written by aging writers sitting on barstools