Day 324: The Day After

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∴

so the people
departed and walked down the trail,
full-bellied and spent
by my whiskey and ale

with a song that lingers
way out on the hill,
while a faint whistle flutters
it’s last cut an’ trill.

stand i in the doorway
to fill in the space
where tomorrow looked back
on yesterday’s face.

in a year, they’ll return
with an older self made
with new fortunes earned
and new debts to be paid.

but now –
the day after –
is soundless and solemn.

the fiddles have ceased
and the fires have fallen.

we hinge up the hope chest;
an’ let missing begin,
for the roads we’ve not sauntered
and the homes we’ve not been.

 

come you,
and again

that next year might come faster.

and thus do i close
the sweetest day after.

∴

 

 

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