This poem is about longing--what's o.k. when coming of age--what are the rules of a culture and its heart? Bless this style if you can imagine it kissing you in the dark of a very safe society. All the best, Don P.S. no need to add I suppose, I'm mostly of Celtic heritage. Poem published in Coffee Press Journal, 2004, copyright to J. Donald Coonrod.

Graceful lyrics Irish poets
hear and pass along—
a husky contralto's song—
deep bass lady a little old to be young, who has lived
several lives in love in
bars and unruly crowds,
who crowd around to hear
her sing the longing song,
and touch each other softly
up and down, and surely
there's no harm in that
when the longing song
comes round, and the beer
and whiskey last, and
the young kiss and
hold each other in
the dark, dark shadows.