holley4734
I did it! I finally wrote a poem. It’s only been a hundred years since I wrote an actual poem. So here it is. Finally.
Waiting for the good ice
How can you
rescue your mind?
The cards might interfere.
The Lovers.
Then the mood is light.
The Star.
Or maybe woozy.
Death and the Hanged Man
Wonderful and nauseous.
Water without ice.
Who has the good ice?
The crushed ice
for cocktails.
the good ice
for hot toddies
-just for me.
The world feels wrong
since she is gone.
It’s not in the cards
for her to make
a hot toddy
and the good ice
-just for me.
Nice! Now it needs to be put to music.
Thank you so much! If only I knew a musician . . . 😉
Ice has such an ambiguity in significations. It’s a poem that kept running around in my head till I had to forced it out.