Internal tea luggage

I have a huge internal energy cache and
the need to share words with a friend.
Long past dusk, but the path still visible,
a thermos my only luggage.

Across the stream a bridge was built.
Rocks thereunder suffice as chair.
The trees are green, my shoes are red,
shrouded in darkness all around me
these colors live their nightly life.

I brought no companion,
only this hot beverage
and my thoughts.

Minutes turn into an hour.
A mug a mug a mug.
Earl's reserves are low.

They'll never catch the wacko
sitting by the stream
alone at night
drinking tea
pondering life.