- One More Candle
-
- The whisky left a warm taste in
his mouth as he thought
- And then he stirred the beans
before they burned his pot
- He'd lived in many places as his
life had run its course
- This last place that he'd found
was no better and no worse
-
- The bare bulb of his porch light
cast a glow into his eye
- As he turned to peel a spud that
he would cut and fry
- Cooking for himself was just one
skill that he'd learned
- In fifty years of living with a
wife or when love turned
-
- Today had been his birthday, one
more candle on a cake
- That's why he'd had a shot of "Old
Jack" the whisky snake
- The day had started cold, low
clouds and mild breeze
- glad he wasn't ailin' with the
cold that made him wheeze
-
- he'd called his brother to meet
him at the bar in town
- nine o'clock was when they'd
figured out to go down
- looking at the clock above his
sink it showed eight
- fried taters, beans and ham waited
on his favorite plate
-
- driving down to the bar he hummed
the birthday song
- and just for fun he'd taken his 22
caliber pistol along
- he remembered taking potshots at a
rabbit yesterday
- near the dump where people always
threw good stuff away
-
- when he walked into the bar his
brother raised his glass
- and they started swapping tales
about what had come to pass
- tomorrow his wife was flying in
from where she'd been
- and their home could get back to
normal once again
-
- later on that night they took the
22 out behind the bar
- where a hill rolled up and so the
bullets didn't go too far
- cans popped and bottles smashed
till a deputy came by
- so they packed it in and said
adios, so another year could fly
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