Table for Two
At a table alone with my friend,
A cup of coffee—
Cream to cloud my reflection,
Sugar to sweeten my upended life.
Not much in the way of empathy,
But never hard to come by, refilling
A much needed lift, extending
A handle to hold onto.
Our table is set for four, though
It’s just us joining lips—
Warm wanderings inside,
Wondering who would or what would.
Would Compassion ever sit beside me?
Would Understanding ever face me?
Would Luck ever reach across?
The waitress pauses to pour more.
She interrupts again with the bill,
Making small talk about busy days.
I want to give her a huge tip
Just because I’m miserable.
Home, bed, attempt at sleep,
At dreams! Then waking reality
Once again, shower, dress, drive
Everywhere and nowhere.