This one just sort of came to me what I was trying to write something else.
A Lunch Alone
I sit at the Formica counter
Battered, and somewhat worse for wear
The sticky menu
Holds evidence of meals past,
Grease from the #3 special
(3 eggs, 3 sausages, and hash browns)
And syrup from a short stack
What do I want?
I stare into my cup of coffee
Old and bitter,
Its surface sheen glistening
Like an oil slick
Under the fluorescent lights
I lean my elbows on the counter
Waiting
For someone to take my order
The voices all around me
Cannot pierce
The invisible barrier
I have erected around myself
To keep out the messy world
Of human interactions
So I am able to sit
Amongst all the people
In this crowded diner
And have
A lunch
Alone
awesome,
ReplyDeletelunch alone,
blocking out all human noises....
it sounds beautiful time at lunch.
Love the way it dwindles to one word, 'alone'. really made me feel that. You're a good poet, mary
ReplyDeleteYour poetry is fabulous...
ReplyDeleteAlways, your support is valued and your efforts are counted...We love you as a poet, we love your poetry as inspirations to all of us.
Hope to see you at our week 11 potluck.. it is open now.
Keep your talent coming.
xoxox
Thank you Jingle! I really enjoy the potlucks. I will submit something.
ReplyDeleteA bit sad that an opportunity to share is spent alone. Meals taste better in good company and need not be so rushed... Better still if someone else picks up the tab! :-)
ReplyDeletelol - agreed!
ReplyDelete