In the bodega, old men drink red wine (never white)
They are proud of their elderliness and solve
The world's many problems; something about keeping
your head down and work hard.
Then as shadows fall and night approaches, they go
home to wives who scold them gently for smelling of wine
but they do hope to meet their old friends tomorrow
afternoon at the bodega.
Not many bodegas left now, big wooden caskets of wine,
sink counter and stone floors, wine bars are taking over,
bottles of showy wine with posh labels like that should
have anything to do with friendship.
