sloe gin fizz

they find
him in a snow bank.
half alive.
he's smiling.
drunk on the sweet
peach of sloe gin.
his boots full
of melted ice.
he's happy as he
begins to slip away
from this life.
away from work,
the kids,
the trouble,
the strife.
let me be he says
to the men
who pull him to his
feet.
let me bring the new
year in
right. he finds
the flask
in his coat pocket
and takes another
swig,
they take home
where his wife waits
with arms crossed,
where the Christmas
lights are lit,
the children asleep,
the fire on.
the house warm.
not knowing now, or
ever how much
he will be missed.