Raise a glass to the light
its edges flash against
the fragile teal gold panes
As we circle the speckled granite table
an anxious tech bro clutches his vintage satchel
while an elegant Zambian woman
“soaking up the culture”
is barely audible amidst the chaos
Side by side on stools, they sip

Everything unchanged
down to the cushion pins
The mahogany beam alive,
captures each palm print
Infinite unique impressions
sleep within the grain
Legend has it Wilde lounged
in the burgundy velvet snug
pen in hand, chatting about how
happiness lies in “Freedom, books
flowers”…
And Yeats sat thinking of love,
runaway stars and his path of dreams

All gathered here to see the rush
of galloping mandolins and fiddles
Raucous basement trad session
Northside glamour, tailored suits
New generations fighting for standing room
A city’s energy bottled and bursting