Jetstream Whisky

I looked into a current
And saw a reflection of my life
As it slid through smooth to torrent,
Up to down.
It was easy and nice,
When the cider house ran free
And the only thing dry
Was the humour of Old Jack.
Times change all too easily
And push fell to indecent shove
As Jack fell into
An indecent early grave.
I ask myself for answers
And hear nothing
But the drip drip drip
Of an incandescent tap.

A X