Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Saint Patrick's Day Memory: A Small Poem

I let myself stir, a little

from depths I regularly plumb.

And you were there and wrapped

in cheery alcoholic haze, and I wondered

if there was some place where I felt

as whole, as carefree, naturally as you seemed

to be from the liquor, where I'd stop missing her,

where I'd believe as hard as you do in Someone.


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