Another stranger in my bed
all the others left once fed
leaving echoes inside my head
Shrink's pills here instead
mourning her beauty's dead
marriage completely bled.

Surrounded by all this earthly ****
in my happy hour a Springsteen hit
New York City Serenade takes me
back to my youth where I'm naive.
I'm a nasty fat ghost dead certain
at inevitable confessional curtain
judgement's cards are on the table
thumbs up or down or just a fable?

I'm lost each night
for an hour or two
in wine's sweet flight
nothing better to do
I fly too close to the sun
then fall back to the Earth
I never die in dream fun
pained morning a rebirth.

Foothills of the Rockies
  Aspen's spread gold leaves,
  grey branches in the trees
  shake in the Autumn breeze.

Young is easy.
     Old is hard.
     Young knows it all.
     Old knows better.
     Young fears nothing.
     Old fears forgetting.
     Young moves free.
     Old moves tethered.
     Young has parties.
     Old has Irish wakes.

The last dance
a final chance
for midnight's
magic romance.

Tear your heart
with broken strings
pull it kindly apart
as the Angel sings
knit it together
as winter is dying
her grandmother
never stops trying.