Do you remember the New Years Evewhere we walked around the Village
and went to the diner
for mashed potatoes
and retired about ten?

The day was such a nothing burger
but the event seemed so ordinary,
so drab,
so domestic that I think back on it
every few years
and I wonder if you remember it
the way I do.

Probably now.
The family life is not so unique for you
nor mashed potatoes, probably,
with your Irish blood a’boilin’
when the wrong phrase is used
regarding the drink.

You may not think of that night at all.
The potatoes were kind of cold, after all,
but you were not.