my phone rang and woke me very early this morning
because all the clocks had been set forward an hour
....four hours before the old bastard drank himself to death
it was as if he'd planed on losing that hour anyhow so what the heck
'six of this and half a dozen of another' he would always say___
he left his family an old doublewide in the panhandle next to the gulf
complete with nicotine soaked curtains and skid marked sheets on a cot
there is an orange tree in the backyard...left barren from a recent frost
and the damage caused by a half bottle of cheap gin.....
the old man's wife left the hospice early for a needed drink
they had spent the better part of a lifetime together
separated by only shot glasses and spoons
a world where lots of pretty shiny things hang from the stark reality
of a paradise lost....and where flamingos don't dance
but stake themselves like plastic gulls on the front lawn
waiting for some snowbird to joke about 'tacky trailer trash'
my friend...the old man's son stood by watching as his father
swallowed his final breath of eight proof regret with no remorse
he called to tell me it was okay
he had taken it all in stride....saying 'this is how it will end for us one day'
and I concurred even though I knew it to be untrue
I've already been dead for years.......

2007 © Ted Sheridan

Ted Sheridan

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/death-called-an-hour-earlier/