Last Chapter Poem by Michael Pruchnicki

The local chapter meets every month
in the backroom of the kennel club-
labradors and lesser breeds long gone
from the premises. Codgers sit at the bar
waiting for a live one to spend a dime!
Or for Gabriel to sound his trumpet!

Some few boast and trumpet
past deeds - now they wait each month
for a pension checl - not a dime
in the bank. Nothing for a night at the club
where Mimi dances on the bar,
evoking dreams of days long gone!

Mornings are reduced to years gone
in a single sad season-a wilted trumpet
honeysuckle dying on a sand bar
in a dry year and in the last month-
tangled vines and lush growth of club
moss obscuring the modest dime!