No Tip
Posted: March 20th, 2023, 1:11 am
the waitress returns, asks
if you are finished, is surprised
by your face-to-face emptiness, her
hands, no ring, red-chapped, a last drop
of condensation on the water glass
twitches, lingers, an unbroken slide—
a delicate capsule of time, so you nod,
want to ask her about the ravaged
beggar across the street with his card
board sign, his life forgotten, or how
her life is going, sad eyes, her grave
yard shift, an unspent vigor of youth—
instead she smiles, leaves your life,
and you watch her briskly whisk
away like a small child giggling
from a spare room filled with toys
if you are finished, is surprised
by your face-to-face emptiness, her
hands, no ring, red-chapped, a last drop
of condensation on the water glass
twitches, lingers, an unbroken slide—
a delicate capsule of time, so you nod,
want to ask her about the ravaged
beggar across the street with his card
board sign, his life forgotten, or how
her life is going, sad eyes, her grave
yard shift, an unspent vigor of youth—
instead she smiles, leaves your life,
and you watch her briskly whisk
away like a small child giggling
from a spare room filled with toys