Here’s a bit of Irish melancholy at the end of St. Patrick’s Day:

“Denial”

Seconds, minutes, hours, days

with no sign from

you.

I convince myself again

you are trying to convince yourself

your arms don’t hold the same hungry

longing for the sanctuary of our embrace,

your lips don’t crave the soul-deep

kiss as yet unshared,

your aching heart doesn’t swell with

promising love half-heartedly denied

You call and nothing else matters except

Possibility.

Daniel J. Cox

03/17/2014