Tag: Anne Weirich

Of all things comprised, my unwitting alibis – 
cove familiar shoulders in hunch, a mortuary stillness, 
whale song across a darkened harbour, 
the ghost of old pipe smoke through a ripened air 
and rattily seated upon this chair, this porch, 
a man of great age and weather; 
a bottle of scotch and a single malt glass 
on a nearby table – the roaming vicissitudes; 
no pining gallant plight, no hands of shared warmth,    
just a language so bare and true 
as no man will be incited, 
no love startled back from the breathless  
unmoved depths.