bar, brown
written by: James Gabriel
@James_Gabriel1
fast friends
her hand sits
on his shoulder
her head
leans
slowly drifting
into his neck
he continues
to drink
she clings
like a castaway
holding onto a rock
men behind them
in front
they are a
world unto
themselves
the bar door
opens
filling the room
with
sunlight
cigarette smoke
the only thing
between the
world and
tired eyes
Born and raised in Los Angeles, California. James Gabriel is new to poetry. Inspired by the small moments in life that add up to who we are as people.
Latest posts by James Gabriel (see all)
- A Bountiful Harvest - October 11, 2019
- Car Fire - September 8, 2019
- Dessert Wine, by Mistake - May 17, 2019
