Wednesday, May 22, 2019

Sobriety Spring

The last drink at the end
Of astronomical
Winter, by which time flowers

Blossomed in the desert
And it was mud season
Up high and far away,

Back home where we needed
To get to by the end
Of spring, back to the springs

That dizzied us sober,
We sat it by the bed
Without the slightest clue

That we would wake up new.

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