David McLansky

(15) Phone in the Bar


Twice from the bar
She used the phone
Twice to call
Her mother, home,
Twice to say
She would be late,
Twice she had
A long debate;
I watched you through
The crowded room,
Between the heads,
The smoke and gloom,
You lost your poise
Your polished air
You seemed to argue
From despair;
Twenty-eight,
Five hours late,
And still
To justify a date.