bob brill

At the Bottom of the Night

shuttered store fronts
bathed in sputtering neon light
miniature replicas
of the Statue of Liberty
wait with the endless patience
of the inanimate

in a butcher shop
a single lightbulb
by the freezer door
shows cigarette burns
on dirty aprons
hanging from the meat hooks

heat rises through subway gratings
on a street where the homeless
huddle together for warmth
but for one old woman
who’d rather be cold
than be touched

all is silent
all is still
only the river is moving
the moon sleeps in a cloud
the last bartender
turns out the lights

Bob Brill is a retired computer programmer and digital artist. He is now devoting his energies to writing fiction and poetry. His novellas, short stories and poems have appeared in more than two dozen online magazines, print journals, and anthologies. This is the 101st poem he has had published.

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