My soul, a petty bullseye

opened up by the local bottle of wine;
oh how I am completed by what comes
from here, this earth, my earth – except
the better life is always the product of
products from other places, lands, hearts,
minds. All that we adore is mostly
because someone braver than I’ll ever be
one day decided to launch themselves on
a journey, and declare whatever they met
next good: a table as lover, as friend.