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Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #1409038
I love diners, especially in the middle of the night.
Transparent coffee and firm yellow eggs.
Aluminum foil ashtrays.
Paper placemats advertising carpet cleaning and real estate.
Vinyl booths with duct tape.

A shrine to the lonely, the in-love, the lost and sleepless.

Who ventures in at two to sit?

Teenagers whose curfews have long expired.
Old couples who no longer find sanctuary in sleep.
Blue hairs, preppies, yuppies, hippies.
Writers. Philosophers. Drunks.

All seem to find comfort
in the late night trips to dirty dives.
© Copyright 2008 Willa St. John (missgreer at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1409038-Late-Night-Trip-to-a-Dirty-Dive