Wine and Sadness

I told myself I would not
drink tonight

but the sadness of things
is with me again

and I sit
in my underwear
with a five dollar bottle
of chardonnay.

I am thinking of the deaths of cats
and the deaths of people
and the deaths of love
and of myself.

I accept all of this
and the sadness within me
is gentle and honest.

The wine compliments it as it would
a steak or a decent piece of fish.

It is as pleasant as anything, really,
though some might think this strange.

I accept this as well
as I pour another glass
and gaze out my window
into darkness.