My whiskey dreams


                     My whiskey dreams
My whiskey dreams, my last grasp at love or the emptiness at the end of  the empty bottle.The broken pieces of my life laid shattered. Once sweet songs had turn sour.
I remember she bought a white Summer dress for the days of late Spring. I was away fighting other people battles.  She wore the dress for me and wrote me a letter with kind and sweet words with the photo of her blue eyes, gentle smile and white Summer dress.
She wrote me. “The Summer days are here and I’m waiting for you.”
Cluster of memories are swimming in my head. Sweet song, pretty smiles and the memory of the slow dances with her near. She told me once. She is imperfect. Body with too little or too much. Who would want a lady with the tattoos of sin and taking the wrong path? I told her. She was perfect and so fine.
I lay broken this last time, does not matter, sour mash, beer or wine. He has everything that once was mine.The notes I sang were sour-on my tongue, no longer were they as sweet as were the melodies in which we sang together when we were young; wasn’t it just yesterday.
The dance I shall remember always, as the dance that set that set you free; the dance that brought you to me and made the world a better place for two young people full of wonder.
No one has ever needed me, and it is for this reason alone, don’t you people see….what you have done? Just a kindness here or there, reaching out to me as if to share, ah, but you are all, oh, so, cold
John Castellenas/Coyote
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