Tuesday, March 31, 2015

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.

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