LATE POETIC PRIVACY

Tick-tock goes the clock.
I recline with tinkling glass. 
Post-Eleven sips.

I fibbed when I said:
"A book and a glass of milk."
I prefer liquor.

The gentle glug-glug... 
In my soft, hugging armchair
I sip sweet nectar.

All alone right now. 
Luxuriant solitude.
Silent, holy night.

My late Grandpa speaks:
"Ice? I'm not American!"
I drink Scotch for two. 

A lady I loved? 
I toast her feisty spirit:
R.I.P., ami. 

And to those alive? 
Tonight you're all Absent Friends.
As such, I miss you.

Midnight approaches. 
Time to bid this day good-night.
I drain my glass dry.
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Author: Buffy Devane

Anxietist; Cheerleader; Captain Posh.

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