June 8
THREE ROOSTERS
The three roosters come to the meeting to hear themselves
crow. The membership purely spectators
in the longest, lowest, loudest sobriety competition. Those of us in the fray are like
picked-on-puppies who learn slowly not to put our heads up to spare our eyes
and hearts. The same noise comes
repeatedly. Suspicion is never aroused;
the heads nod at all the right places, orchestrated for ego and nothing
else. The meeting is closed with a
momentary prayer for the still suffering in and out of the room. I pray that will be enough.
Tour your past but
leave at closing time.
*
Abraxas
I was waiting
for a magic person
and then you
appeared.
I was dazzled;
I was under
your spell.
In an attempt
to prove myself
your natural
assistant I sawed me in two.
Then I stepped
into the vanishing cabinet
and promptly
disappeared.
I was not
wrong to see the miraculous in you,
but I never
looked from your visage once you arrived.
The world
around me melted at your entrance
and I flowed
down the drain along with it.
I somehow
expected a response from you,
but why
respond to an empty room?
So, I will
plug back into myself and power up.
Power draws
power
and I will see
if I can draw you once again.
You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane
and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault
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