One For The Road Poem by John F. McCullagh

My brother related a strange dream that he had:
It took place in a bar; he was there with our Dad.
they both ordered a Guinness, in the mood for a stout.
They both were committedto enjoy their night out
The barkeep then asked if they'd be running a tab.
Jim reached in his pocket, he paid for his drinkand Dad's.
" I don't think we will."" Just the one now" He said,
"For I'm on blood thinners and my Dad here is dead."