The Last Guy
THE LAST GUY
The music faded, last couple stood momentarily,
Stumbled out while the smoke whisps cleared.
We were reduced to last lees of coffee:
A raincoat man stood uncertainly
Shuffled out with a brief grunt,
Waiter barely turned his head,
Last man drained final dreg,
Fumbled for doorhandle
Holding cold empty cup.
A dark smoky place
No clear way home.
Sad end, sad day.
Sorry for
Him.
6 September 2019
Copyright © Sidney Beck | Year Posted 2019
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