Poetry — Curse not the wicked night,
life is alternately balsamic
and sublime,
I have weathered the bronchitis,
the virus,
the wilted iris,
the tendonitis,
love reflected and defrosted,
time deflected and exhausted,
life half-burned
and moonlit skies,
vows rehearsed followed by
kisses deflated and debunked,
lost weekends, last call and happy hour,
there is such a thing as infallible karma,
one…