A Somewhere Lobby
by Odin Roark

A place where voices speak the boredom,
Laughter cries for reward,
And quiet patience of the doorman
Waits out the dampness of night,
Longing for morning sun.

A time when the lounge down the hall
Counterpoints a piano's reverie with chatter,
Where expectations take flight with the bartender's "last call."

A place where the faux library wall remains untouched,
Dust of disinterest forever accumulating.
A lobby to somewhere,
Often the welcoming space to dreams unrealized,
Fantasy’s preparation for rewards at any cost.

For others,
A final check in is prepared,
Life's baggage fatigue wearily left behind
Traveling light.

A collective to somewhere
An entrance and exit
A somewhere lobby
Serving odyssey’s many stops.