closing it down

there's a picture

of us,

the three of us,

three boys, halfway

to being

men,

drinks in hand,

all of us in jeans

and turtleneck sweaters,

hair hanging down,

the girls we were with

at the time,

beside us.

there was music going

on,

dancing.

the club was full of smoke,

a blue

haze.

the bartenders knew

us by name.

it seemed this life

would never end.

we'd close the place down

then drive

home,

sometimes

with a new friend,

sometimes

alone.

sometimes the three

of us together,

stopping

for eggs

along the early morning

road.