The Nightcap

Initially, it reminds me of that campfire we never made
on the banks of Loch Linnhe, the salt air
of the water that I have never seen evaporating
into our noses.  The green grass that we
have experienced in pictures shares its
aroma on a light breeze.  Then we step inside
and are hit with the oak floors and the
dusty leather from the rows of books
that I can only imagine would line
the walls of the place.
And then, it hits the lips like a
welcome punch in the face
directly in the teeth, burning
momentarily like that unbuilt campfire
dancing across the palate
and transporting me on that vacation
that we have often discussed.
As my mind disappears
in the fog and the mist of the glen,
the worries of the day and the reality here
slide away into the night.