Thirty Paces From The Bar Door

‘There aren’t any potluck lunches down here’

That’s all the sign read

The sad old sign,

With the yellowed and weathered scotch tape,

taped to the humming lamppost

A bit odd, huh?, is all that came to mind

Some people have more time on their hands,

Than I do

Then I smiled,

And kept on walking

Never once turning around,

Never giving a care, again

And why would I?

I had a place to be,

Because that old lamppost was only,

Thirty paces from the bar door

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

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