in love with a bartender

there

was a bartender in a bar

called

Bojangles down

on M street,

Dixie.

short blonde hair,

blue

eyes. she may have

been from

Finland,

or some far away place

where everyone

is pale

and knows how to ski.

but she knew what i

drank, a long pour

of vodka

over ice and tonic,

a slice of lime,

it was waiting on the bar

for me

when she saw

me coming down

the stairs with

hair blown,

cologne splashed

on my face.

grinning from ear

to ear to see her.

then she was gone.

someone told me she

moved to Colorado.

i still think about looking

her up

for one last pour.

how could she leave me

this way.