Triangulate on northern skies
pinned positions. Drawing lines
until the 106 meets up with the 45
             On a hot night,
   I might keep this smile alive
long enough to trace the alleys,
salt the streets with summer sighs

It was night time
And the sky took a bite--
drank our blood, we drained our pints
           and we set the world to rights
Switched to whiskey--
         same color as your eyes.
   You said mine looked sad, but you told me they were nice

Now I want you to know I once had something to say
on the tip of my tongue
             but it's late and I have aged.
                So get walking...
And I guess I'll do the same.
Meet up in the middle, in the Fall, some other day.