the boys with voices gently slurred
are out again tonight
they stop and talk by street lamps
moths beckoned by the light
the smoke from cigarettes
curls upward in the light
the air is ice and as they breathe
the cold holds it in sight
tonight their tones are gentle
no louder than a sigh
they wander home in peace this night
with lager's lullaby
this time their minds are smoothly fogged
with alcoholic cheer
the village sleeps in peace tonight
although the boys are near
All materials Copyright © 2004-2008 by Eryll Oellermann
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