Love Poem: Variations On Variations

Variations On Variations

Of the public house,
I know nothing;
nothing of the
chipped walls and
clambering jazz,
or the joy that
washes over
everything like a
spilled drink

..only that there is
a girl, perhaps a
thousand miles away,
sitting at the same
table, while I am
alone in a bar
watching August fade
into an empty cup