last night when I couldn’t sleep
it was a hell of a lot better than counting sheep
and then again as I rolled this old body out of bed
and put pen to paper

your face was there floating
over the page like a big balloon at the Macy’s
Thanksgiving Day parade
and the thought of seeing you again

having your eyes lock with mine
is it a dream?
it’s a spot of light in this dark graveyard
a planted flower

a pint of ale
a sun shower and the rainbow
with all its color at
the end