by
James R. Muri
"Strangely, I love you"
The note you left behind
On my kitchen table
Wasn't even signed.
Since 19 and 69
When I came home from war
For ten years that was true,
Then it wasn't anymore.
Now second life, second kids
A second wife down the hall
A second chance to get it right -
I shouldn't think of you at all.
But deep inside where nothing shows
Where only whiskey ever goes
The bad is vague, faded grey,
Evaporated, gone away -
Leaving nothing else behind
For me and whiskey to finally find
But your hair, your face, your futile grace
With me in my secret place.
Staring at this midnight wall
While second wife's just down the hall
I shouldn't think of you at all
- I shouldn't think of you at all.
But I do, and always will
Because strangely, I love you.
Still.
Copyright, 1997 by James R. Muri