Scattered Musing

It was Spring and
I broke out...

     You stayed (but kinda left)
and somewhere in between we found
ourselves.

And amidst emerging problems
     we'd just drink 'til 2 or 3
And in the middle we might meet

          with some kind of understanding
or perhaps an emptied cup

     And if I'm dead
     by tomorrow
     I just hope I meant
          something

          To some kid
          where I was
     back when I was still his age

*******

And if my father isn't like me, I still think he might be proud
     of bloody knuckles
     and fierce smiles on the face of his lone son.