Closin' Time

I've got ten dollars and my own bar stool -
That should be enough until closin' time.
I'll just feed the juke box like some old fool,
And remember back when songs were a dime

There used to be sawdust on these old floors.
Way back when there was hair on this bald head.
Cowboys with spurs used to walk through those doors,
And most of 'em now are probably dead.

I remember blue eyes when she was young.
Each smile a blessing to a boy my age.
I chuckle as I recall that sharp tongue
From one so small when she worked up a rage.

We were young when we toasted tomorrow.
Just over there at the end of the bar.
Now the time has come to face my sorrow.
Remember things that were - not things that are.

We laid her in a flowered grave today.
Sixty years and more after we first met.
Now I have ten dollars and a song to play.
Closin' time will come, but, please - not just yet.

6-2-18
Copyright © | Year Posted 2018

Poem

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