The Lazy Wake

Poetry

Source- mulyadi on Unsplash

The Lazy Wake

The house is empty, except

For the round table and

five chairs.

We three pull flasks and glasses from our pockets.

A fourth draws on a stogie and sips Diet Coke.

You would’ve eyed him with disgust.

It's a gathering with drink and smoke and cards, but

you are dead.

I sense you. You couldn’t leave us be

now could you?

Your smile shimmers on whiskey glasses.

Your snicker echoes in the grind of the wheels —

the train backing up on nearby tracks.

Decks are cut, antes are upped.

Your legends are told,

retold, and told again.

Encircling us

like the plume from the Montecristo.