sky a cloudless blue
as I round the corner
past Bueckert’s Dodge dealership
with the CP tracks on the other side
lean the bike against wall
three round steps up and then the door
ancient hardwood floor creaks under sneakers
this place has been here forever
Pete, behind the counter, smiles in my direction
and I take an empty stool ready to order
I could be Doc Holiday or Butch Cassidy
sitting at the bar with my horse waiting outside
for this ten-year-old a coke and a crunchie bar
after the paper route is just about perfect
No comments:
Post a Comment