Whiskey Neat

Just a Night

Then we wondered
where we should go
The sweltering sun finally fell
and night people pulsed the city

Scents of beer
and sounds of jazz poured from
doorways open for everyone
and we chose the door on the corner

Chicago Pete belted out the blues
from the depth of his soul
while watchers, swayers
and be-boppers felt the music
and sipped their burgundy
or Irish whiskey
neat

The sax man strolled the aisle
like a blind man
grooving to the melody
and the be-boppers nodded, yeah
Pete’s guitar strings shivered from the chill
and he pulled it to his chest
and he knew it like his woman

And then it was over
and only the memory lingers on

*critiques welcome