Tree

Something in me stirred and only shook me awake
when I got home that I miss you
from nowhere you came, from my heart you have flown.
Over distant realms, petals, planes, and bottle shells.
Perfect punctuation and petals and pubs and please no alliteration.
Tears and spilt remains serpents rise and win again.
Booze seeks no gain mystery wretches
at life’s most beautiful deadline
reversed ragtime burst whisper
vanilla handkerchiefs and lots of vinegar.
My weary shell,
I don’t farewell. Miss a Mrs.
a bit of cheek and home by midnight
not wasted, not tasted, not hasted, not tasted.
Just miss you, Ms. Priory Gates.