Coffee and Ice Cream

I remember as though it were yesterday, but in fact it was 22 years ago.  And oh, how the years of awkward discomfort that stacked between us seemed to melt away as we sat face to face at a two top in the lounge of the local Hilton, a generic quartet lovingly piping soft jazz into the atmosphere.  It was 5pm and the place was empty save for the two of us and the suited man who'd missed his flight, staring off into space and tapping the handle on the suitcase beside his chair.  The ice was melting in his scotch, and it clinked against the glass.  Couples holding hands strolled through the big airy lounge half open to the lobby half closed to the outside world.  For just an hour, we breathed the same air, believing only in each other, our coffee and chocolate ice cream.  He was strange to me on the outside, but in his eyes, I could see the man that was my father.  His eyes pleaded with me to see beyond the weakened body and join him again at my little tea party in front of the Christmas Tree, sipping imaginary tea and eating imaginary cookies.  That was our moment.  All the things that daddy loved in one room all at once.  I felt my stubborn pride slip away as he reached out for forgiveness. That was the last I had felt him smile.  I never knew such relief could be found at the mere sight a closed casket.  Now I am free to just remember that smile.

Ghosts

two rats did scurry along the dock
the moon it shone in time
the stars fell like flurries
with great expectation we
parted the curtains
looked out the window
we tried to see our future
but all we found was darkness
and the half sunk ship

Choice Wine

will it be fine blood wine to coat my throat
and be sweet upon my lips,
or will it be vinegar, and all for naught
The cold glass against my skin uncrushable,
green and corked at the apex,
my fingers drape the nape of its neck
toying with the supple wax seal
Leave it on the shelf perhaps another 7 years
or seize it, let it ravage me, let the wave crest

the greatest pleasure is in that moment just before
the wine takes its own first breath
and then I find the bottom of the bottle my cell