From my stool in the diner I watch
the old woman with elm tree arms
command the big booth in back
and roar for a menu,
take a half hour to read it
before placing her order.
Watching her eat, I realize
life for her is a dollop of whip cream,
a twirling ballerina, on a diamond of Jello.
I raise my water glass
in a silent toast. Bravo, I whisper.
I wish her good cheer.
The Poet Community is completely reader supported, please help me keep it going.
Have you read Guy Farmer's social justice poetry book now available on Amazon?
Read poems by Guy Farmer on this site.