Glass of Rum

Each day around noon

he goes to the place

he is welcome.

He places his money on the counter

and orders a large rum.

He stares at his glass for a moment

and then takes a sip,

silently toasting the memories

of lost friendship.

 The years have caught up on him

and he must spend

what is left on his own.

That’s why he comes here so as

not to feel alone.

He passes the time of day with

the other lost souls

then stares back into his glass

like it was the opening of a large hole,

where all his memories are stored

and where he returns

to any time he is bored.

Those times have become

far too frequent

now that he finds

it harder to hide his torment.