UP AT THE BAR By John Grey

It’s the kind of evening

when stale barroom light

is warmer than a fireplace.

And my thirst sits up at the bar

followed by the rest of me.

“What’ll it be?” asks Ted,

as he always does,

even though my order never changes.

A beer,

a friendly conversation

with Ted,

with the drinkers on both sides of me,

no wonder my smile wishes

it could always be like this.

But drinking is time

borrowed from the outside world,

and there comes a time

when it demands repayment.

So outside the night’s waiting 

with its cold breath and its bills to collect.

It employs two heavies –

home and sleep.

 

 

John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident, recently published in Midnight Mind, Willow Review and the Pennsylvania Literary Journal. Latest books, “Bittersweet”, “Subject Matters” and “Between Two Fires” are available through Amazon. Work upcoming in the MacGuffin, Touchstone and Willow Review.