It's my go to place,
has been for years,
The Wildwood Café,
serving only breakfast
and lunch closes at 2:00,
an eclectic tiny place
with a mix of old dinette
tables and mismatched chairs,
the cutlery also unmatched
and well used, some even a
little bent but no one cares
it's part of the unassuming
charm of the place. Old photos
and signs adorn the walls
and there is usually a line
of people waiting patiently
on benches outside.

Best of all there is this pleasant
girl, always wearing a welcoming
smile, who seems to know us all.
She knows my order by heart,
Ham and eggs over medium,
a half ration of potatoes, home baked
slice of bread, well toasted, well buttered,
home made salsa on the side, a cup of
"hot" Black English Tea. Tall water no ice.

If I arrive between the busy times, she may
sit for a spell at my table, we talk a while,
not a big thing, just chitchat, I'm old enough
to be her grandfather, it's the dessert before
my meal served with genuine friendliness
and unforced civility, not often encountered
in these strange days and times, a slice of
small town Americana at it's best,
she and folks like her help sustain my belief
that basic human decency is far from dead.

The food always good, but it's the
comforting embrace of familiarity and
simple kindness that assures my
frequent return.