Marietta bar

i sat at a round table and watched the wine
being poured more or less well into thick glass
but the music played by the dark eyed lass
was made for beer and the Friday night
regular crowd showed plenty of good cheer
their laughter constrained by the low ceiling
and rafter providing rich atmosphere
She was an Welsh girl with a Dylan Thomas curl
about her hair
i could have been at home pouring shots
but i was there,
listening to her mother while smiling
across the small space to her beautiful face.
A large group of characters filled this Marietta bar
with heavy anticipation and smoke
which was light enough to eat and we did so,
with gusto.
Martha and i skipped on the pie, while someone else
paid the bill
we had our fill, and Molly had her songs.
The lyrics were rich with the wild honey and thick cream of
insight which was a special delight
hearing from one so young
her truth had a poignancy
that many could see
and feel and know
Molly is now in Austin, but maybe Idaho
Martha to visit from Connecticut would have a long way to go.
Alone, i'm still sipping the wine
drinking beer,
and misbehaving fine.