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Like Winter
I don’t care what you say there is a beauty in this old men in bars on weekday afternoons while the world outside sweat and aches with the doing of things inside these walls time moves slow and we have all the necessary things smoke and drink and silence a little talk and some gentle laughter all of us hiding from something waiting for yesterday’s love and tomorrow’s unemployment checks Sinatra is on the jukebox and the bartender steps outside to smoke and she leans against a lamppost saying it smells like winter and I do believe she’s right. |
