FADING SUMMER

Sitting outside the Tap and Mallet pub
she sipping prosecco,
I with a malbec that starts bold
and soon enough slides into adequacy,
as a breeze rustles the beer list
that runs five pages.
We sit enjoying an evening
which gently lingers
as does this summer,
both ready to slip away
but bidding us
a gentle farewell.

Summer, Friday Night

Sitting outside the wine bar

the evening still remembers summer.

The bar is full, loud, joyous

as the glasses are poured

and clinked in celebration

of intermingled toasts.

The lounge up the street,

its red sign glaring

is much the same if louder

people pouring out the door

in practiced reverie.

Down the block a young woman

stares at her car, sandwiched tight,

at her cell phone useless,

and goes back for another beer.