Sonnet

Some freezing rain is falling on my shoulder
And a winter wind is blowing through each lung.
Some things about this weather make me older
Some things about it make me feel so young.
There’s a quarter moon that knows the hours I’m keeping
And a glittered highway showing back its light.
There’s a baby at home in my room that’s sleeping
And a woman that won’t be alone tonight.

So let the lads and lad-ettes keep Ibiza
And morning walks home, cocktail on their chin.
I’ll spill my own drink listening to Aretha
With my girl and a fireplace in our den
If being young is one prolonged farewell
I’ll find it undiminished somewhere else.