Sips of A Recipe
for Jackie Cox

owe you my eye,
my eye-teeth
it was a good night
taste of the good life
light you permit me see,
permit to shine
wine until we’ve red cheeks

Santa’s not confined
to December twenty-fifth,
to the night before Christmas

you come bearing gifts, in arms,
in sacks—ask, you consent

juices drip from the sky,
from on high—rain wets my eyes
I’m too happy for words


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
11:18 p.m. 19/11/07