You wonder how long that
White-haired man has been
Making waffles to give to other people.
You wonder how long the other
Has been slicing ham under
That immeasurably hot, metal light for;
Only to pass the pieces out to
Children who may just throw them away.

You wonder how long their
Hair has been white.
You wonder when
Yours will be.

You think that –
When I am eighty,
I sure as Hell will not be
Serving food to
Unappreciative
Strangers.

But, maybe,
That white-haired man gets up
Two extra minutes early on the
First Sunday of each month,
Probably alone,
To make the same waffles for the
Same people as last month.

And the man whose
Fingers don’t even shake as he
Slices your ham and
Tells you a joke at the same time
Might even be happy to
See the same people as last month,

Yes,
he definitely is.

Those men made more than
One child smile this morning.
And even though it’s
Easter Sunday, and that child
Probably doesn’t understand what that means,
Well, neither do I.
But I imagine it resembles something like this.

White haired men
Serving waffles and
Ham,
Telling jokes,
Not much different from
Last Sunday.

Not much different at all.