A drink. A sip. I sip you and you sink me. The empty bottle, is the saddest sight.

Etched, in the valleys of the moon, staring from or to. Blazing the night, The autumn heat returns,

Oh dreaded day, bring light! Nothing less than the beauty that you are, The whispers and winds in mind, Shackled, deranged, slightly mad,

I remember youth and senses, the smell and touch. Fascinated by breathing, in and out. Sunday walks,

You have to, jump in with the sharks. They won’t eat you, unless you let them. You dodge and dive,

Wake to the sun on fire, a wandering wisp of a dream, In it’s forgotten desire, a candle… as a sonnet sings sentiment as bri… What is a plum situation,

I couldn’t think, of anything worse. From the outside, Looking in. Draining your soul away,

To sin enough, is to sin forever, shine dull nor pure, but fear!, fear the end. Does it end after night, or at the end of the day!

She reminded me of women, I used to see as a child, at family gatherings. Tired, not quite steady,

My father talked often, of what went wrong, who his father was, Who he is as a father, Long drawn out conversations,

There’s not enough time, Not for seeing the world, no no But feeling alive, To hold your friend when they weep… For being in a hole,

The port city and it’s secrets, The Sicilians drapes hung in the… The ghosts beyond the limestone wa… The sad holy brush of James Walsh… The sanctity of the unknown,

She blazes and burns a beautiful m… grabs life’s hand and drags it wit… Never too close, to love it wholly, Yet close enough,