The garage drinker says...

The Old Style can is beautiful in the dusty garage light.  Perspiring, it sits on the workbench beneath the glass block windows between the pruning shears and the Weed-B-Gon.  I pick it up and put it to use.  It's so cold.

There are no limits to the places the mind can go if the heart will send it.  The fount is life is new experience, facing the unknown with enthusiasm.  We all want something beautiful, and it may be out there beyond the garage door or it may be deep in the cavern of my head.