something to think about
Hampton bops at piano
Dexter blows
Wendell beside him swaying
Mcghee in dark shades
Trummy slides, bays
bottle cap upturned on counter
kitchen light fades
flickers
moon turns
on its heel
shadowed
waxing
brass shimmering
in the past
half cleared
is this what it's like?
dying,
growing old,
watching time
falter
I set the empty bottle in the sink
alone
I'll wash it out
tomorrow.
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