Poem: Noir in the Dive Bar

The soft mellow sound
of the horn
accompanied by
the gentle tinkling
of the keys
the singer's bold
contralto 
is smoky like
the cigar smoke
of a long forgotten
age of backroom
agreements
the murmur of patrons
who barely even notice
the musical notes
held frozen in place
A bygone age
of leading men
and sultry sirens
as I sit at the bar
and offer a toast
to days gone by.