Drinking Song

Last orders!
Go fetch me a pint,
There's a good lass.
A bitter and a Guinness?
Oh yes, I must have my supper.
I bring the brimming glasses.
It feels like home here.
"Your second home." Mum jokes.
She's not really joking.
She's bitter, like your pint.

The fire crackles and flies up the stone chimney.
The domino game finished an hour ago.
Familiar faces, some swollen and reddened
Not only with drink,
With the hardship of their country lives.
Weathered faces.
Yours has weathered too, like soft leather.

Time, gentlemen, please!
"What, already?"You joke with the landlord,
Downing the last of the brew.
We slip and slide home on the frosty path.
At least the drink makes bearable
The private house that isn't my home.
It helps wrap me up against
The frost inside that bears no welcome.