Restaurant

Nod graced my resting spaces with a dream last night
A contented sleep it was indeed, full of lingering sight
It appeared as me trudging blindly through unkind snow
Blurry eyes below a tattered cap, wondering where to go
Limbs in rags, cellophane, and invisible motion
My tired head was greeted soon by a pleasant notion
This of a cabin with hearth, food, and colored drink
Where blood returns to hands under a porcelain sink
And then with gaiety my dream within dream was ended
I gazed upon a neon sign, and all my pains were mended
It read "RESTAURANT"; I rushed inside
Was met with grinning lights and decorations tied
One dandy man said I needn't wait to take a seat
I browsed the lengthy list, but briskly, contemplating what to eat
Around my table, all degrees, happy voices sprang
Flushed with enough but not too much wine, all these voices sang
"Don't know," said a vibrant baritone when I asked the song
"Every night here, we make one up as we go along"
And with splendid haste upon this answer my company all asked me
To join in on the rousing chorus and bellow happily
When food arrived it was as if on Christmas Day
Never had I seen a Thursday evening spent in such a way
And when the waving hands said hello to twelve, we shuffled to the door
Departing with a kiss on every cheek, I'd spend a thousand nights here more
But stepping again into the howling black underneath the neon light
Reality snatched my dream away, though--Thank God--it left the lingering sight