31 December 2008
'Twas a Bitter Glass, but Good
Cool fingers, redolent of peat fires and
Salmon, brushing my face
I gasp to be so far from home.
Smoky mirror distorted through the glass
as I raise my arm, a toast
to the briefly brilliant stars.
I cough, throat tight with their memories,
This amber courage watered with tears
as I, frantic, beseeched Him to grant this:
You have taken out their fire,
Please leave me their warmth.
I wrote this in honor of my first two children, their memories residing in my heart. But really, it could be for anyone we wish was with us but is not. Raise a glass to them tonight. May the coming year be kind to you all! Slainte!