175
Sonnets From Other Lives: The Regulars

Never thought he’d leave. I thought that he
had sunk his roots so far into this town
that we’d bury him here. The Maple Tree
Inn is mostly empty. So whose round
is it? I’m dry. All the Regulars
are drinking at their customary stations.
Nearly every drinker in the bar
thinking--To just up & leave friends & relations…
Someone puts a dollar in the jukebox
The Wichita Lineman fills the room.
For one verse and a chorus no one talks.
Joyce sets down a round then takes a broom--
& sweeps. Everybody knows it’s getting late.
Still, they drink & think about own escapes.