On a day like this
clouds low overhead
tree leaves on fire
and books unread
I retreat to the pub
my pipe in hand
for a dram of uisge
and worries remand.
Hemingway, Behan,
great works abound
I savor the words
both light and profound.
A nip of the dram
A puff on the briar
I'm settled in for Autumn
I've all I require.

Sláinte