I slipped on my old brown jacket
And walked to the light through the rain.
Placed a coin on the bar and whispered, “Johnny”
He cried, “Man, haven’t seen you in years!”
“Where you been, here’s your stool, take a whiskey.
It’s your bottle I kept on the shelf!”
I tried to protest and explain I was dry,
But the words wouldn’t come to my mind.
“Had a hunch you’d be back,” he said with a smile.
There’s not many hold out for this long.
We talked about life and remembered the dead,
He poured scotch in my glass and we laughed.
“There’s a wind getting up but the logs are aglow,
If you want you can stay for the night.”
I glanced at the clock and saw it was late.
Hell, who was running this show?
The bar was alive with friends either side
And I felt here was love, here was life.
There was cash on the bar and scotch in my glass,
And tales that had to be told...
...Light crept through my window at dawn
And I stirred from my dreams with a start.
Pulled my coat from the hook and caught a faint trace
Of a scent that belonged in the past.
11 January 2005
Drinking Again
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3 comments:
Gosh great words! Does the scent really come back after all this time? Thanks so much for your visit and supportive words on my blog, very much appreciated!
Yes Grace, just the faintest scent is enough. I smell it on someone and it has the power to transport me back.
I like your frank open style. You say how you are really feeling and that is normally such a hard thing to do. I feel it is helping you as recently you have sounded more objective.
Low today maybe but don't give in. Keep writing for the therapy, buy flowers to enjoy and just talk.
Finn - yep, I woke up. Long bad dream and one I can still recall vividly.
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