The Whiskey Monologues

Because the night is too long,
but the whiskey tastes good,
and the star I wished on last night
moved to someone else’s sky
(that could mean the wish is coming true,
but I’m giving up until the next comet…)

The back porch is quiet,
but the rain is getting loud.
I should go in where it’s dry,
but this drowns out unrelenting thoughts and lets me just pretend.
Drinking in the rain somehow makes sense.

Visions of our life and that wondering smile
and one brief moment of touch are replaying, repeating, and reminding me why
this whiskey tastes good and I’m still in the rain.

Submitted by sjs.

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