Martini
In training, eight of us, the day before
National Martini Day, already
Ruddy from white wine, watch the maestro pour
A splash of Scotch, flavor the rocks, steady
His hand, restrain the ice, drain the
pitcher,
Then drizzle the gin. We debate how dry
To craft it, how close vermouth’s encounter
Should be. Just pass the uncapped bottle by,
Says one. We settle on a drop apiece,
Agree to stir, not shake, drink from the same
Giant goblet, make the seeming caprice
A serious toast to friendship, not a game,
No trifling lark, but something well beyond—
We let this crisp concoction build a bond.
John Kucera