Small Town Irish Pub

Cynthia Zhang 2012

In the shadow

By the road,

There is this small town

Irish pub without light.

The swing on the tree

Is still swinging.

The icy moonlight

Draws the shape of the counter.

Where is the laughter

Of yesterday?

It should be last life.

It should be another time.

That Irish young man

Behind the counter

Catches a glimpse

Of a familiar silhouette,

Asking in his heart:

Have we met before?