Sunset Wine

F.G. Franklin

Evening wears like five o'clock shadows;
grizzled grey gruff beneath wrinkled brow.
Every memory, taunting and hollow
except for black and white pictures now.
There is the man in the felt fedora,
smoking his smelly old Cuban cigar.
Back bent low as he rests on elbows
over his whiskey in a seaside bar
The restaurant air, heavy and greasy;
Scallops and shrimp and oyster stew
While ocean waves wash slow and easy
primordial sands with strains of blue
Piano tunes play from hazy poolrooms
Ivory notes that are filled with soul
A leather-jacketed man chalks his cue
Jazz of Count Basie and Nat King Cole
Will we fall in love only
to find it regrettable?
Shall I remain; a sweet refrain... 
Unforgettable?
The night wears on in trails of blue
Cigarette smoke fills the seaside bar
Rolling like dark Mississippi bayous
As Muddy Waters plays his guitar
Girls hike up their shining skirts
Flash of flesh as they dance and grind
Buying their whiskey never hurts
Knowing the thing on every man's mind
Night goes flying in raucous laughter 
Only to settle on spilling rim
Where the drink is drunk; sedated after
In quiet corners where light is dim
To be certain there will be
A morning after;
a dull accounting of distant sin
But tonight we are free
From parish and pastor
To swim in the sea or bathtub gin
Ragweed smell in restaurant lot
Tells of lovers parked in the night
Windows rolled up and smoking pot
Away from others and safe from sight
And all the while we hear the band;
Blues and Jazz of a thousand nights
Black cat bone, Hoochie Coochie Man
In waves reflecting colored lights
Out on the sea the moon shines alone
Drinking the ocean; salty with brine
Pulling her skirts and shuffling on
Until all is forgotten in sunset wine

 

 

 

 

  • Author: F.G. Franklin (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: September 16th, 2017 11:33
  • Comment from author about the poem: For my friend, Paul Squires. Rest In Peace.
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 25
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Comments +

Comments1

  • Gary Edward Geraci

    You aptly and colorfully describe the life that dominated a good thirty years of my own existence - even that elusive "something" (was it love?) surfaces in your poem - that elusive "something" that makes us want to do it all over again the following night - despite the previous morning's hangover. Though I caught the attention of a lot of women, I never did catch that elusuve "something", following the club and bar scene, and so the sun finally went down for me for good on this type of lifestyle. An honest, well written piece.

    • F.G. Franklin

      Thank you for reading and leaving a comment. I appreciate it. I was listening to some old blues and jazz as I wrote this. The old greats are gone but their music and nuance lives on.

      • Gary Edward Geraci

        Yes, may the music live on!



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