One for the Road
His head down staring at
The remnants of his drink
He lifts his hand to
Gain the attention of the Keep.
He’s been sitting here for hours
Unwilling and unable to face
The prospect of going home.
The work day was long and brutal
Full of the same shit as yesterday.
Only thing is, at the end of the day
He’d been Downsized; Forced out; Let go.
He’s left with a cardboard box
Full of his office décor
Sitting in the trunk of his car.
He lifts his head and meets
The eyes of the Keep
And asks her for one more.
One more for the long drive home.
One more for the wife
Who will welcome him home.
One more
For the road.
Roy W. Backes
© 2021
Roy W. Backes - Poetry 