The Restaurant

Another poem I did in my years of college

 

It was odd when Sarah didn’t look up,

She always looked at him,

Whether through lowered lashes

Or eyes that were wide and never flinched.

This time the restaurant booth was dark green and peeling

Unlike the blood red of the restaurant before.

John and Amber don’t belong in this story.

Lachlan sat in the very back looking out a window

Wanting to be young.

Waitresses hurried back and forth

From table to table

Smiles fixed just so on their mouths.

Sometimes you’d hear an angry customer,

But today was just the average day.

Pies of fruit: cherry, lemon, peach, sheltered under domes,

Smell of coffee, the real kind, no flavors here.

All of them were strangers in their dark green booths

All except for Sarah and the man she loved, but didn’t notice.

They could all see it coming, coffee cups raised, mouths in mid-chew,

Throats in mid-swallow, and then they’re ears heard

The shattering of glass, the cry of someone’s brakes,

Two cars crash together fiercely as if they were frenzied lovers

Who couldn’t find the time to wait.

Green eyes shot up; only to find the man she loved

Just an inch from her face.

From then on not a person in that restaurant moved,

No one raced out of their seats to help a stranger.

The only doctor among the customers

Was having some awkward trouble in the bathroom.