I who lived a drunkard’s life
used to emerge from soul-darkness
each dank morning,
surrounded by reeking,
spiteful, half-drained
cans and bottles.
I awoke to sunshine
and realized that
books lay strewn and piled
around my bed, exactly
where the detritus of drinking
used to scatter.
Such irony, and sweet messy blessing!
To awake to realms of words,
troves of wisdom,
endless possibilities,
instead of warm beer and an empty
frightened, cold heart.
“Of all things, I liked books best.” ~ Nikola Tesla
Relephant Read:
The Last Drink. {Poem}
Author: Keeley Milne
Editor: Renée Picard
Photos: Erin Stoodley/Flickr, Flickr
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