After the After

He had to be at work in three.
He played for an enfeebled audience of three.
Beings curled in a ball, face in palm
ignoring the shade and its sun desperately trying to creep in from behind
and remind us of the day and work and more future fatigue
The music; slow, stirring. Every once in a while an arm would twitch
or a sigh would escape a lonely mouth
As our friend did his best to
encourage
I was the first to leave
And it was a swell day after all...