Drinking the Purple Hour
Drinking now the purple hour
last one left
bereft of power
moments dripping down your chin
see through seconds
stretching thin
some time caught behind your tongue
travels back to find you young
in my eyes I see you find
yesterday inside your mind
a flash of Sunday afternoon
on the boulevard in June
I wipe that summer from your eye
with fingertips and wonder why
the flow of time and tears goes on
Long after hope has come and gone.
But, sometimes when we think
all hope is gone
we find the strength
to carry on
our faith in God will see us through
so let's dry our eyes, me and you
and have one last drink
before the wine turns sour
a farewell toast to the purple hour
My niece, Johnette Loefgren, and I wrote this
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