On the Ledge of Night

He said like a burned out literary star...

On the Ledge of Night

She met him at a winter hand warmer.
He had a sweet, pungent man’s air.
At a dark, crooked table in the corner,
she watched him nurse a warm beer.

After a couple of hours and a phone,
He said like a burned out literary star,
“My driver will eventually drive you home.
Shall we walk me to my waiting car?”

She had never been to thi…