Cribbed some words
from an old diary circa 1977
the olden days before my digital wisdom.
Shy drunken words about love and
hope and such. The pages blurred pencil
and hard black ink committed to stuff only he
would know. And then he stopped midway
through the page. Age, and the words are
still blurred, but the voice
still carries. If he knew something,
it is still obscure.