Sure there have been days
when the words were rote
tossed off like a smile to a stranger
Possibly some days
the sentiment was less than unqualified
(Distraction and habit can
deplete words however sweetly intended)
But I can safely say the words
have never been a lie or a weapon
nor have they been repeated in proximity
to another human with whom I shared
the same lane
So no betrayal No prevarication No
Sarcasm (that truly spoiling excretion)
Which leaves I suppose
the dangerous realm of sincerity
the banishment of cool irony
the helpful but redundant “You Are Here”
sign stating the obvious
Still who can deny the draw
the gravity of desire
a blazing hearth when outside
flurries are painting the windows
in cold abstraction
The simple warmth
The assumption of a home on earth
whose location is strangely portable
and survives chill seasons absence
irritation the mirror any number
of daily falters boredom stink
the hairs in the bathroom sink
and the inevitable leaving
— Patrick O’Leary