My dad told me when you quit drinking
You finally hear the birds sing
On chirping mornings or dimming evenings
That will now be remembered
Every January through December, from here on out
Now I count every rose petal and press them in books
Jumping onto roofs, but not jumping off them
No more praying on cold bathroom floors
Finally live up to all the promises I made
When I was nothing but a shaking core
Who didn’t ask for help, but begged
To hear the birds again
I'm a recovering alcoholic and almost a month clean. Writing helps.