When the Golden Eagle
Is the last hotel on the street
When the money
Changes hands for the last time
And the heart is dirty,
When all the dead marriages are forgotten
When cancer is the guide
And wine the map and
There are hired killers in the
Alley
The Golden Eagle will take us in,
There will be tuna sandwiches
On the windowsill
And curtains
We will ride the cable cars again
And there will be a mirror
On the wall
That catches the sunset
In the evening and holds it still.
~Karen Sykes
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