Whiskey Night
The sky
is like a fine blend
of Canadian whiskey tonight;
amber around the edges, bleeding
light blue toward center.
Funny
how middle age has a way
of coming for you in the dark
of night.
Heads turn round and shining
as full moons, bellies
bloat like sightless fish
on a sticky shore.
The breeze tonight is cool
and the wind rustles in yellow
trees--I thought I heard
a goose somewhere
as darkness reddens the tree line
and whiskey night
comes down softly and sure.
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