I shouldn't be here.
I drank myself into
withdrawal seizures
when I tried to stop.
I pissed
away years
like they were nickels
on a barroom floor.
Friends' ashes
are scattered across
Iowa City and Des Moines.
Some of them froze.
Some fell on ice
and didn't get up.
Some overdosed
on smack.
Some drank themselves into
cirrhosis
and wet brain.
February in Iowa
doesn't care if you're drunk.
The sidewalk
is still hard.
The cold still gets inside you.
The body still
has to answer
for everything you did to it.
Little Phil met his end
on a park bench
next to the library.
I shouldn't be here,
but here I am
the next morning
and a lifetime later.
Coffee.
Medicine.
Vitamins.
I stretch my back
until it stops complaining
long enough for me
to stand up.
I feed the cats.
Open the shades.
Look out at the street.
There's an appointment today.
They're going to ultrasound
the nodule
on my thyroid.
Apparently
the miracle comes
with appointments.
It comes with pills
and coffee
and an aching back.
It comes with cats
waiting for breakfast
and a blank page
sitting on the desk.
No epiphany.
No trumpets.
No voice from heaven
telling me
what it all means.
Just another morning
I wasn't supposed to have.
So I sit down
and write about
the miracles
that smell like peaches
and the autumn wind
and a cat box
that needs changed.
-
Author:
Thomas W Case (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: September 29th, 2026 08:31
- Comment from author about the poem: My latest book, Searching for Nod, will be available on Amazon in a few days: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Thomas-W.-Case/author/B0CL2RKDGX?ref=sr_ Here's a link to my YouTube channel where I read my poetry: https://www.youtube.com/@ThomasWCase
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 26
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange

Offline)
Comments9
good write my friend
ty
most welcome, enjoyed
Good write T. Cooeee, ya still here?! heehee.
Thank you.
A poem that questions why me in a positive way. How one survives the odds and somehow survives to live a better life. Some call it charmed, others luck either way it is a reminder of not pushing the odds. Nicely done Thomas
Thank you.
You are very welcome Thomas
Happy at your way of life now . These things: Cat , Golf, etc mean a lot.
Good Write.
Thank you.
My Pleasure .
There are times, for a wee while not now, when I measure time as the space existing between medical appointments.
And please, I just don't think I could take on the responsibility of a cat...
The feeling of a journey came over me as I experienced this. Many thanks, Thomas.
Thank you, my friend.
Thomas…hell, man. No trumpets needed. You’re here, sober, writing, taking care of yourself and those cats, and facing whatever today brings. I’m glad you got this morning. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Thank you, my friend.
Very powerful, reflective poem that doesn't really hit home until you have a few miles and years under your belt - like Bob Segar's "Like a Rock".
Nice tune when your 20 but makes you bawl like a baby in your 50's.
So true. Thank you.
That’s what writing’s all about!
Yes. Thanks.
One can visualize the scene- you have a way with words 👏👏
Thank you.
you are welcome
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