A Taste of Home

Because I drink too fast, the memories don’t last long enough

To ease the pain and sorrow.  So, I drink and sip ‘til when I can taste of home again,

Then wait for sleep to take me into ‘morrow…


I don’t lose people well; those who know me see and tell that I’ve been

Crying days between the smiles and joking.  Why aren’t you angry, too?  Why only I

And not you, too, am sitting here with a shirt nearly soaking?


Would you like one?  Here’s to you! Let me garnish it with love and lemon rind.

Remember, sip in moderation. Let us toast their generation!

Like salt and pepper graced the family table, one should

Drink the wine and walk away still able.


True, I need the ones around me to recall from time to time

That their strength belied much hurt when love for family

Clasped to goals with self-determination’s girth.


No history books will tell either theirs or my story well, nor will

Monuments proclaim our humble deeds; so, I walk my glass out back with a small plate of

Cheese and bread, and smile once more among the peppers and the weeds…