[stylist] Poem - "Waitress" - Final Draft
William L Houts
lukaeon at gmail.com
Thu Jun 25 19:14:39 UTC 2015
*Waitress *
(in memory of Nadine "Granny" Jackson)
Plates like galaxies braced
on her arm, she brings our eats.
It's craft she's gained from her thousands
on frayed carpet.
Breakfast crowds, dinner guests
all are arrayed
in their booths, a chorus
of murmurs arising like
prayer, her feet singing ows.
We dine, declaim, and coffee
drink like oasisingcamels.
Arriving, unhoped for
fulfillment, she pours and pours,
a prophetess fountain.
such gifting strength?I'd never
hold:my smile would
fail like dustbowl crops.
Waitress, lady, Grandmother
Deep: take twenty percent
and know I know
what suffering is, and what
it costs. O rest your
broken, faithful feet,
and bathe in hotrelease,
and bone revived
or husband held,
embrace your war-won sleep.
--
"Oh, Sophie! Whyfore have you eated all de cheeldren?"
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