Our guide ended the tour
by taking us down to the cellar
of the mansion and told us the last
people who owned the house
before it was donated to the historical
society turned the space into
a rathskellar. They’d invite
their wealthy friends to come
down for drinks but this
was during Prohibition
so they’d hop on
their pontoon plane and fly from
their dock on the river all
the way to Cuba and back
with enough booze for the party.
I can see them sitting there
around the table, faces flushed,
cigarette smoke hovering.
I can hear the men’s
low voices punctuated by a woman’s
too bright laughter and just
for one night I want to be there,
be one of that half.
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