Copyright 2011 Gordon Kuhn

Poet in the Rain

The counter was bare and empty

So I took the first available lonely old seat

And my mind thought of burgers and Wimpy

And paying the second Tuesday of next week.

But the menu was loaded with more than just the one treat

Then came the waitresses who swished and swirled about me

Hurrying as best they could on sore and tired feet

They quickly flipped open their worn and tattered order pads

As one on a hunt intent on selling me my lunch

Then, as a bunch, rushed at me to greet

As one all suggested the potatoes and meat

“It’s cooked today,” they all said with a smile

“Not like yesterday or the day before the day before.”

“I’m glad,” I replied, “it’s been quite a while.

I’ve been living on collards, chittlins, swamp cabbage and peas,

And things, weird things, they claim live in the seas.

So, bring it, bring on some fried potatoes and a chunk of cooked meat,

And I’ll sit here and enjoy them while keeping warm this lonely old seat.”

Monday morning and another Christmas has slid past with children’s smiles a mile wide at times underneath parents warm gazes and amidst phrases said a million times before.  Dishes filled with tasty treats, and lots of meats that somehow vanished amid holiday traditions and numerous renditions of comments and songs so carefully and lovingly shared for a moment in time most of the world stopped and cared about the neighbor down the street and smiled as we went out and came to meet those whom we pass regularly without but without recognitions being passed.  Christmas, while I dislike you most happily I am that you are past while wishing the feelings would remain throughout the years.