Life’s Little Misdirections 🥀🦋

Warm

By the tall window he sipped coffee,
never letting go of the handle while
caressing the cup with the other hand,
where it hovered over the receiving plate.

I watched him from the alcove of my
work area, where I scanned for tables
to bus and patrons needing a refill;
though, it was the waitresses' job.

I did it for the pony-tailed blonde
with nylon skirt that pleasingly slid
up her long thighs, whenever she reached
beneath the heat lamps for orders.

I served her because she could speak
to a lonely dishwasher's heart with
warm words eliding every so tenderly
over each bird-sung syllable until her break.

He sat in the same window booth most
everyday I worked and only ordered
the java that seemed sustain him enough
to go on reveries viewing a warm scene.

Did I mention that I knew him, felt
compelled to serve him, knowing some
universal thing that linked us. His name
was Ken, my brother's father-in-law.

We nodded acknowledgment of one another
most days, before I started assisting
Sarah, who took her breaks, today with
Bill, the other dishwasher, out back.

I watched Lisa cover tables, but not
for this girl who spun my dizzied heart,
that needed her warming words when I
covered her area on that day when

Ken slumped in his booth and stopped
peering out the tall window, while I
wondered if anyone was going to check
to see if the divorced man was okay.

I stood in my alcove, and in horrified
silence, as the ambulance drove away,
never moving, never gesticulating,
to this day wondering if I have

it in me to cover tables for Sarah.
If I could just hear the words spoken
Can I warm that up for you? once
in the years it took since I quit that job.

Bill grew old. Sarah aged, too. Lisa
is a grandmother and I'm with Ken
today, and never mind where I've been.
I've never known the meaning of warm.


5.11.20