they were doing nothing
they were sitting around
telling stories about the way the world is
and I could not argue
with the truth
of their sad conclusions
but I could notice
the beautiful woman
at the next table
and drown the sound
of their voices
with memories of loving gestures
that shore me up
and ease the hard lines
on my face
hard lines
that threaten to push me down
and hold me under
________________________
Bob Hudson calls ‘em like he sees ‘em.
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