A poem a day for a year #287

by Amy Turn Sharp


try and remember the last time
you felt free
buoyant
cavalier with your love
when you moved through a night
bottled beer by the neck
with two fingers
on your way to the next great adventure
toward the girl in the back of a bar
who lets you do anything to her
toward a highway
your true lover
back to the origins of swagger
where all the music sets you on fire
when you been there?
how long has it been?