How do we know
when it’s time to go?

coffee’s gone cold,
conversation’s dulled;
waitress is pacing,
Time to go.

ten runs behind,
seventh inning stretch,
well past midnight now,
Time to go.

Theater lights bright,
curtains full closed;
no more cast bows,
Time to go.

She returned my key,
won’t return my calls;
she’s seeing another,
Time to go.

Gus Daum


About degus221

A Kansan who has migrated to Oregon.
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.


  1. MaryJo Comins says:

    Graphic decisions familiar to us all. When you point it out, the decision to let go looks simple and obvious. Am I the only one who makes it difficult for myself? Nice poem, Gus.


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