like a little girl

the ghost of us
is the only thing
older than the
red and yellow
thai take-out
containers

spilling over

and around

the garbage can

with its living line

of ants

that separate

living room from

kitchen

the stereo

that i found

on the side

of the road

in sherwood

plays a

van morrison cover
and even though

your eyes were blue
it seems
dead on


the drink
in my hand
gone
and the ice
too far away
so i pour
straight from
the bottle
and sink farther
into the past

drinking
alone
to  be with you