clatter of ice

in glasses

whisper of top shelf cocktails

kitchen’s dinner specials

glide within this room

and across the bar

finds the singer in the corner

She sings standards

songs we all know

but seldom hear

She sits on a stool

dressed in a form-fitting sleeveless

sparkling-black dress

My Funny Valentine echoes from

her buffed-over lips

Her Carole Lombard locks

droop over her brow

and settle across her shoulders

She crosses her black-stocking legs

bounces and smiles out

Sunny Side of the Street

The singer

sits in her corner

slips on her glasses

and hums out

Cry Me a River

patrons drink

some want to smoke but can’t

The patrons clap

after each of Her songs

Are they really listening?

They glance from their conversations

Is her voice the days-end elation

they don’t know they need...