Sandy's Place

Sandy's Place

Sandy’s place always smelled of apple pie.

When you’d leave

the smell would trail you down the street.

As I passed old Sandy’s place

long since closed (she’d passed away)

I saw the gutter overflowed with leaves.

Down the street past Sandy’s place

I looked up, just beyond the streetlight

Towards the tower where I used to work all day.

Just beyond that old brick tower

Was the place where the town’s souls rest

The same place were Sandy’s coffin rests today.

I continued down the street

As a courier passed me

I wondered what message he might deliver.

I didn’t think too long

As I slipped into the local bar

It was so dank and dreary that it made me shiver.

I had a beer. I had one shot.

A group played pool in the far corner.

I drank to the loss of days gone by.

Those days are never truly lost

As I could never possibly forget how

Sandy’s place always smelled of apple pie.

DizzyDezzi (c) 2016

Published by Diva

Trying to live my best life, but chores keep getting in the way!

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