National Holiday

I sat by myself at the bar.


The bartender was busy checking his phone.


The only other person was an older man


sitting several stools down.


People were down by the waterfront


watching of fireworks blossom in the dark.


The man seemed to have been


there for hours. His head slouched


downward, as if his neck


could no longer bear its weight.


He stood without toppling over 


and stumbled into the street.


It was just the two of us.


I fidgeted with my phone,


the new nervous tick my generation 


has grown accustomed to. 


I finished my drink


and motioned for another.


Our exchange was primitive- 


marked only by the minimal


sounds needed to facilitate it.


I drank and wondered 


how I had become so alone.


It didn't matter.


It was only one evening.


I buzzed a mild electricity


after that last drink.


My feet led me home


as people flooded


the streets from the beach.


It was a calm exodus filled


with smiles, families


and the mild intoxication


celebration elicits.


They were a river 


flowing downstream,


I became the salmon


returning home to spawn,


but that night


even that would be denied.