A Waitress's First Day

Unsure, the waitress
with fumbling spoons...
Eyed by the gentlemen in wicker chairs.
She goes up to men
with awkward smile.
"Water", one says with unfeigned charm.

She returns with jug
and menus, four.

The men choose lunch.

"Trout for us all", say men all four,
as if peas in a pod,
towards the gal.

The lunch is served,
and the waitress stands with lone fork,
waiting by a wicker stool.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2019

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Poet has turned off commenting.


Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace