In Africa the wine is cheap, and it is

on St. Mark's Place too, beneath a white moon.

I'll go there tomorrow, dark bulk hooded

against what is hurled down at me in my no hat

which is weather: the tall pretty girl in the print dress

under the fur collar of her cloth coat will be standing

by the wire fence where the wild flowers grow not too tall

her eyes will be deep brown and her hair styled 1941 American

      will be too; but

I'll be shattered by then

But now I'm not and can also picture white clouds

impossibly high in blue sky over small boy heartbroken

to be dressed in black knickers, black coat, white shirt,

      buster-brown collar, flowing black bow-tie

her hand lightly fallen on his shoulder, faded sunlight falling

across the picture, mother & son, 33 & 7, First Communion Day, 1941--

I'll go out for a drink with one of my demons tonight

they are dry in Colorado 1980 spring snow.