An overfilled ashtray with squashed cigarette butts.
Empty beer cans stacked tackily into a mini tower.
The noisy honky-tonk tunes and late night poker games. Strip-Poker, being your favorite.
You always wanted more than you could bargain for.
How ridiculous those times play now; in the tired smiles in the worn sepia pictures of yesteryear.
Fading more with each walk down memory lane.
I take the last swig of Tanqueray and cough.
Sweeping you from my mind, like sawdust, with which they in the morning's swept out the bars.
© Donna H.
August 28, 2025
Empty beer cans stacked tackily into a mini tower.
The noisy honky-tonk tunes and late night poker games. Strip-Poker, being your favorite.
You always wanted more than you could bargain for.
How ridiculous those times play now; in the tired smiles in the worn sepia pictures of yesteryear.
Fading more with each walk down memory lane.
I take the last swig of Tanqueray and cough.
Sweeping you from my mind, like sawdust, with which they in the morning's swept out the bars.
© Donna H.
August 28, 2025