Still Listening: Bartender

He wrote a song once about the good love, the good wine.
I want to know how often (and when)
His notes, or any other's, will carry the weight of these two things into my world.

I want to document them, keep them on file;
prepare for their arrival, if these things can be known.
Make my house into a home so that,
When they arrive,
There are the tiniest of tokens bearing witness to past visits,
Memories called up to make a bridge from
What’s happened before to what’s happening between.

As for love, well—
I want to give it my favorite seat,
Make it comfortable in my red slippers,
Pull the corners of the blanket down around its shoulders when it gets cold.