Sauntering into the bar
Wearing a tropical shirt
And red Chucks

A woman as mystical as he
Upon his arm

Whisky and water with a twist

He is homeless
He says

Nice place to be homeless
A New England resort town

A boat to spend summers on
Then moving down to the islands
To escape the cold

No job now
Maybe in October
Maybe next year

They dine with laughter
And a sixty dollar bottle of champagne

I wipe down the bar
Concocting this story