Waitress
Listen to poem:
Waitress
David J Walker
There is a waitress working at
The Sunrise coffee shop
Who knows her tips depend
On a convincing performance
To that end she knows my name
I am
Darlin or
sugar or
sweets pie
It’s good to live in the South
She reminds me of how
21 felt
She reminds me of the
Freedom from obligation
She reminds me of lost
Liberal thought
She reminds me of unbridled
Anticipation
She reminds me of how one can
Live on minimum wage
She reminds me that my songs
Are sung by dead and dying artists
She reminds me though my clothes
are clean they are sadly out of date
She reminds me of the awkwardness
Of the ascending obligations of adulthood
She reminds me of a
Hungering wontedness
She reminds me of the mysteries
Of sex
She reminds me, unintentionally,
That I’m a grandfather
She reminds me that I am a veteran of battles
Won or lost a half century ago
She reminds me that no matter what else I am
I am also the mentor of everyday students
Walking the streets
It’s worth an extra dollar or so
To let her know
Her smile and the coffee is enough to
Keep me coming back
Where every morning she serves it up
hot and black
With the mystery of memories
On the side
Copyright © David Walker | Year Posted 2022
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