The knock at my door awoke my hung over self.
Piercing blue eyes and a 50s style haircut
a crazed look in his eyes that could go either way.
It had been at least 20 years
since our last acquaintance.
I had changed plenty
as had he
other than the look.
Put back eight beer
for breakfast
and realized
there is no sense in
hiding the past.
1 comment:
Ah, the sweet plenty of your poetry. It's rich to read and abundant to consider.
Fraser
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