What is that thing that makes us man
or not or something else?
The fall of mankind in too many drinks;
A lost word, like a missing child, calling for home,
Makes waves of hate and sneers and threats.
The frost of strong hands and good friends
I lost through time and distance: the measure tape of
Time reeling out over the years, over the miles
between us.
When we were young, our faces smiled in black and white,
Bent up sepia and frayed edges of youths untold,
Unheard and unmentioned.
You, where are you now? The glimmers of
Pictures on laptop screens tell tall tales of a
Happiness unfelt and unknown.
We all spin the lies to send home.
The poker-party madness of whiskey in the night,
The flare and fight of shouts and vile threatenings.
We all go into the cold and where is there love?
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