"Lost Waitress Poem":
Over the Years,
Michael fell in love with this blond waitress.
He could imagine her
in one of his old shirts reading the newspaper
next to him in bed,
even as she said: "Coffee, sir?"
One day, only dusty plants
waited in the window where the restaurant
used to be.
Michael new he lost her.
He ate every lunch out,
dinner, sometimes, too plunging ardent-eyed
into uncharted Pizza Heavens and Mac and Don's,
blurting not: "Can I look at the menu?"
but: "Let me see your waitresses!"
In Michael's town
there are many restaurants.
Because he hated Chinese food,
He never found her
~Gail Mahr