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Morning Coffee

by Edmund Siejka


The night before
A soft rain had fallen
Traffic lights,
Hitting the streets 
At just the right angle,
Transformed wet asphalt
Into long shiny ribbons.

Pulling into the Diner
He saw that most of the tables were taken
But there was one left
All the way in the back.

She was there
Calling all the morning customers by name
The men answering good naturedly
Their voices still heavy with sleep.

He watched as she walked 
Down the narrow aisle
Every so often resting on a familiar shoulder
As she leaned over to pour another cup of coffee.


Closing his eyes
He wished she was with him
Kissing him
Her arms around his waist.
He, holding her so close to him.

When he looked up 
He was alone.

Eventually she came to him
Walking all the way to the back of the diner
A mischievous smile on her face
Her impatient eyes asking
“Are you ready to order now?”

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