They parked near the truck, and she wondered to herself.
If those rails could speak, what stories would they tell?
Echoes of the past, she could almost feel the presence
Of laughter and singing and the myriad of smells.
Opening the old door, she saw it sitting like a throne,
Showing off its mirror, its frame and its charm.
Its age was overshadowed by its beauty and grace.
It was the bar, no...altar of spirits to embrace.
She could imagine the smoke, the cigar making rings
And the sounds of smooth talk the politicians would sing.
If those walls could speak, what stories would they tell
About the Great Depression and booze to sell.
The memories now live among new smells and sounds.
The place is an eatery, no, a palace she found.
Hats off to the fried frog legs and hamburger steak,
And thanks to the cook, the king no one can shake.
They found an old treasure, none can match soon,
Not to mention the service at the Last Chance Saloon.