Saturday Night Closing Time At The Hilltop Inn. By Robert Halleck

Finishing her last Manhattan

she reached the finger stirring stage

then speared the cherry as she sat

at the end of the bar. A painted face

masking a undefined age.

Let's just leave it at that.

Her eyes showed loves vaguely remembered

then tucked into an obviously heavy soul.

It was the last hour.

The barkeep mumbled last call

as the dice players made a final roll

before the Hilltop's mood turned sour.

The barkeep later attested

that the newcomer made a pass

for which the lady granted no license.

Her friends helped her depart unmolested

because on Sundays she knelt at mass

and they knew she needed night's silence. 

Robert Halleck's work has appeared in over 40 poetry journals, magazine, and annuals in the last few years. Recently his poems have appeared or will appear in the San Diego Poetry Annual, The Paterson Literary Review, The St. Ann's Review, Third Wednesday, Chiron, and The Mockingheart Review. He is a member of San Diego's Not Dead Yet Poets and is a regular attendee of the Kenyon Review's Summer Workshops.