Cocktail Hour
Cocktail hour came at last, as did the sun,Which, dressed, appeared in front of
Thick, unsightly curtains, behind which
It had hid for at least a week. We raised
Our glasses, praised the way its rays had
Given our unloved, unlovely river, rhinestone
Glamour. We were pleased, and drunk
Before the sun had set. We left the deck,
Returned inside, and said, as darkness
Loomed and dinner waited, that all days
Should end like that, and then we went
To bed.
Poetry by Lawrence Beck
Read 62 times
Written on 2020-03-25 at 11:40
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