You show up to

drink with me

when it’s almost time

to go home.

Java – my old friend

I know you’re there because,

I feel your presence,

when I

… walk into

the 1-80 Diner

on Airport Road

at three thirty AM

I walk in like,

I own the place,

and I find you,

staring up at me

speaking to me

from the safety of

your

ceramic cocoon

and you

tell me that,

immortality is,

an illusion

of simpletons

and drunken ghosts

and silly old

poets

and that the

fine days of summer will begin,

in the hours

shortly after dawn.

You can defeat them,

you say to me.

After all…

…mistress wine

(is long abed)

…and Old Man Bourbon

(a particularly ill-tempered

old fool

with bad feet…

and rotted teeth)

has bit the

proverbial dirt.

SO, it follows that,

you will outlive them all,

they are as good as dead and

in their graves

right now

(Or so you say to me

oh Java.)

You and me,

we’ll go on together,

keeping great midnight company

for maybe the next

20 or 25 years

…if we pay,

particular attention

to the

hour

before

daybreak.