The doors of the restaurant squeak open.
Behind the host counter I watch people pour in.
Tired parents with a screaming baby,
An awkward couple on a first date,
Two U.S. marines in full uniform,
An angry mom and her family of five,
A couple accompanied by a service dog,
An older man who asks for a table for one,
A woman who tells me I remind her of her daughter,
A college girl who waits for her friends for an hour,
A family who stay on their phones while they eat,
A food delivery man who is in a rush,
A drunken man who asks to sit in the bar,
Three old women who seat themselves,
Six girls who ask me to take a photo of them,
A woman wearing nurse scrubs,
A little girl who asks for an extra coloring page,
And a family of twenty.
I’m just a poet with a part time job.
Feb 22, 2024
Feb 22, 2024 at 12:47 PM UTC
The doors of the restaurant squeak open.
Behind the host counter I watch people pour in.
Tired parents with a screaming baby,
An awkward couple on a first date,
Two U.S. marines in full uniform,
An angry mom and her family of five,
A couple accompanied by a service dog,
An older man who asks for a table for one,
A woman who tells me I remind her of her daughter,
A college girl who waits for her friends for an hour,
A family who stay on their phones while they eat,
A food delivery man who is in a rush,
A drunken man who asks to sit in the bar,
Three old women who seat themselves,
Six girls who ask me to take a photo of them,
A woman wearing nurse scrubs,
A little girl who asks for an extra coloring page,
And a family of twenty.
I’m just a poet with a part time job.
