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Rummy wakes

lost to a dream merchant
the counter a bed
the lights wink in the chrome sink
and the clever skill wrists
are slunk to the pocket depths

an ear exposed beyond the thick
shine of dyed black hair
anonymous grifter colour
like a great wing
laying shinning down the
length of wool
the tiny back

Snow and rain caress
the plate glass
and there is joy in the voice
of the bell
that cries arrivals
and departures

an aviary angel sleeps
in weary wings
and working soul

Editing stage: 


where you were going with this one. I thought at first that you might be describing a transient using an abandoned-house for shelter. Then I thought you might be describing a minister or deacon tending to his flock of homeless. Each ring of his doorbell bringing a new soul to soothe. [Shining] Maybe a little hint of what this one is about? ~ Gee

This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place

This was about hitting the little shop
A coffee sandwich bar Store
circa built late twenties and not much
changed all through the years
Kept alive as it is through the ages
by now second generation family

There was a girl sleeping
on the stool her head resting on the
counter...Dyed black hair (good dye job)
and long dark anonymous wool jacket
Good make buy the cut, the material
nice shoes....I sat one stool away
and never stared at her or commented
to anyone and ordered a sandwich
suggested to me by the daughter of the
owner who manned the cash register

Good family people
The daughter was letting the girl sleep
Inside the shop was dark lacquered wood
and a wide screen televsion above the door
to the storage and back
Above overhead was the tin design ceiling
favoured then for fire protection and the soft
lights from the fancy glass globes on the
chain or wire..The fresh fruit for sale and
the plate glass with the name of the shop
The recessed front doorway with enamel
Soda Pop push bar advertisement..the terrazio
floor..The Hamilton Milkshake machine
the dark wooden dislplay counters with
choclates and sundries and goods..Outside
the cold air blew traffic rolled past and snow
fell...The soups steamed on the hot plates
just over the counter their shiny lids tilted
and the people at the tables behind me
between the fruit displays and the tins
and dry goods talked about something

The daughter said the girl had a hard night
Sometimes its just another soul to watch
over another.....I believe in angels
I believe in humanity

there are other storey poems to tell
like the towers of travel

lighthouses and keeps they all
have their view

Thank You!
The doorbell ran each time
someone came in or out
and I remembered that movie
about that fellow George Bailey
and Clarence...
that time of year...

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