together
at the glen echo irish bar.
a small piece of Ireland
is here.
there is music.
dancing of some sort.
the clicking of heels
by red haired
girls with green eyes
and pale skin.
ruddy large men
are singing,
drinking pints of beer with
their flat caps snug on.
we clink our glasses
and listen
as best we can as a helicopter
hovers near.
doing a water rescue
in the river,
saving a life, perhaps,
or finding one
afloat behind all reach.
we raise our
hand to the waitress
for another round, this life
being so fleet.
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