outside the bar where the folk singers
tell tales on thursday nights
(no smoking allowed)
his cigarette extinguished in the slush
by the side of the street
he kicks his boots on the curb
before he re-enters the club
hearing a girl sing
angel from montgomery
in a way that makes his heart ache
and makes his hands itch
he pulls his wide brim hat low
as he takes a seat at the counter
bartender asks "another?" and he merely
nods as his glass is refilled
he looks at the small stage to watch the girl
smiles and thinks if it was twenty years ago
as she finishes the song he turns back to the barkeep
"who's the girl?" he wonders aloud
and the guy leans in to say "names tina, I think, she said tina lee."
"invite her back next friday. I'll be here."
he drains the whiskey and leaves out the back door
returning to his ranch in the mountains
until next friday.