IN THE BAR

IN THE BAR

As the evening sun
goes down,
I settle on
my beloved chair
and open
the window panes
to watch the
oval glow
through the amber
liquid in my glass.
Sometimes
the sun melts,
along with
the ice cubes.
Sometimes
it just floats
hesitating to set,
making the gaping
pit of the
horizon to wait,
making time still.
In that stillness,
I find out that
if the word BAR
is reversed as
RAB and add
IES to it,
what I get is
RABIES.
Yes.
The puzzle
is solved.