I left my last beer in the fridge

meaning to open it tonight –

no note tells me who’s taken it.

 

I kid myself that it’s all right,

that sitting in this hard-earned peace

I can even taste its cool, clear gold –

 

but I’m not fooled. It’s so unfair.

And other drinks can’t slake the thirst

for what’s not there.

 

 

 

First published in HappenStance Sampler