POETRY
Indian River
Barmaids and astronauts

There’s a bar on the Indian River With a view of the rockets’ red glare. The locals go there for the oysters and beer And the woman with fire in her hair.
She says, I am an astronaut’s wife As she slides a glass over the bar He’s blasted aloft for the time of his life On a mission to colonize Mars.
I’ll wait for him here in the marshes Though I know his heart is up there He’d rather spend nights with the moon and the stars Than a wife who has fire in her hair.
In the bar on the Indian River Where the regulars stay until two She rings the last call and swaps jokes with them all Then quietly murmurs a tune...
The higher you fly, boys The harder you’ll fall In the end, you’ll be buried In spite of it all.
I’ve seen you all lift off And head towards the sky But the flame in your hearts, boys It cannot survive, Indian River.
Jim Dutton © 2021






