Drops by at four, raids
the fridge, toasts unhappy hour
to his firing squad.
Laid off friend
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Drops by at four, raids
the fridge, toasts unhappy hour
to his firing squad.
Kitchen windows fogged,
oven-baked chicken is the
scent of homecoming.
Once her nest, now a
museum to her old self.
Home is elsewhere.
Looking back I find
this old friend, written record
for the world to view
Held back by your tight
seventeen syllable leash,
I write elsewhere now.
Shivering at the
airport. Colder than O’Hare.
Turn back, refund flight.
West Coast starting line
pavement our road map we head
east back to our roots.
Despite my darkest
moods you reach out, take my hand,
and lead me toward hope.
Bright summer days no
friend to sadness. Solace lies
in winter’s dark chill.