Keith Wesley Combs- A Poem

one of the angels.

she sits alone

at the end

of the bar

drawing angels

in her notebook

while

the bartender

cleans his glasses

as the Hispanic

hustler

tries to make

every man

that comes

in the door

his next trick.

she sits alone

talking to no one

but herself.

staring at the paper

looking up

only to take

a hit

off her beer.

she sits alone

at the end

of the bar

drawing and talking

to angels.

in her own world.

she may be

the loneliest

or the most sensible

of us all.

 

 

 

I am a union painter who likes to write poetry and short stories in my spare time. I write about my life, life in general, my travels on the road. My work has been published in Main Street Rag, Pearl, Carcinogenic Poetry, Black Book Press, Atlantic Pacific Press, Record Magazine, and many more with more to come soon.