My friend Sweeney
the roaring laughter
ridiculous tales
sold as the truth
he was unstoppable
those evenings at the hearth
we exchanged views
between a bottle of whiskey
as the mellow drink settled inside us
and the last red embers died
i saw his face damp and the heartbreak
of a thousand Irish families in it
rubbing he complained about allergies
telling me a limerick and cracking the seal
of another good label
poem by Martin Lochner
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