Master Fly

November 24, 2014

As the door opens
And the cold draft passes
As the man
With the thick beard
And rough face
Grabs a stool next to mine
And kicks up his feet
On the old and tarnished brass rail.
As I sit there and hear him
Order the usual jack and a pint
His type always does
I realize my friend
The bar stool prophet
Is no where to be found
And as I look over
At the mirror behind the bar
Sponsored by wild turkey
Or some other terrible brand
I see him smiling back at me
He raises his glass
As I do too
In a silent toast
To the pupil
The master.


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