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Jan 2014
Active minds quietened by alcohol,
Familiar smoke in lungs,
Anything to blur the frantic
Sentences that burn and dance
Across synapses and down
Nerve endings,
Trying to escape through
Fingertips.
"Enough, enough"-
Concerned voices trying to help
But that moment is long gone
Out the window, through the
Garden and on to the harbor
Where my inebriated soul
Could rest at last.
CB Hooper
Written by
CB Hooper  Alabama
(Alabama)   
602
   Terry Collett
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