We can get
accustomed
to being too
familiar
with the
familiar
paths in life
under the
mesmerizing
mood
of
moonlight
starlight
or
streetlight
and
wind-up
taking
unwitting
detours off
these
familiar
paths in the
light of day
and lose
our way.

I was strolling down the aisle
We were shopping there in style
With my daughter sitting smiling in the cart,
I was stretching out my hand
For the Martinelli's brand
When the apple of my eye gave me a start.

With the bottle in my grasp
I saw, coming toward us fast,
A high heeled damsel, scarfed and towing her caddie
And she smirked as I, condemned,
Stood up to comprehend
The reason, as my child said "Whisky Daddy?"

There was nothing I could say,
To make it seem another way,
To vanquish the conviction so compelling
It was the color you could tell
And the shape she knew so well,
The question that my daughter asked was telling.

Neil Stewart McLeod