Alcoholic Poetry 18

is the same phrase
not your arbitor,
as we vex these
footholds unbecoming?

awash in this
deep blue somethingl
as though we were born
knowing who we'd become;

for anchor's sake.
for every drop, it falls
again, with the knowledge
that it always has.

i'd like to know
soemthing other than
how it ends, but all that
rain fell before

i had the chance to
catch it, for every leaf
those branches let go,

somewhere below they wait
to know, why you let them.

and what remains of the
places where we once grew.