Last Legs

A change in the weather. A change for the worse.
Lights out with that last lightning burst.

The house shakes and the spirit soars.
The body wants to shake like that. 

Quick, kill the drink till now you’ve nursed
And let it plant you on all fours. 

If Love, your god, comes stumbling back
Storm-driven down your beaten track 

It will expect a welcome mat.
You might as well rehearse.

First published in The Hopkins Review