From Cookline to Home Kitchen – R.W.

There’s a mood
I can’t quite put into words
It’s the drive home
In the pouring rain
Beating the windows
But they’re still open a crack
To let the cool air in
After my shift
Twice as long as an office day
Hotter than summer
Stuck on the cook line
Of the kitchen
I’m no chef
Not meant to be here
But it comes with the job
Music blaring
Trying to block out the ringing
Of the bar music in my ears
As I carry the tone of the night
Home with me


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