As a songwriter, I sometimes have thoughts or ideas that wouldn't particularly make a good song. This is the outlet for that stuff...

Sunday, July 9, 2017

Grace


Is stretched like bread dough

Morning rush

Too many tables

Apologies

Dot her conversation like apron

Stains

Old man baked into the corner

Booth

Wanted decaf

Wanted eggs

Over easy

Wanted sourdough

“I'm so sorry”

“Let me take that back”

“No, that's okay”

“I'll eat this”

She moves on in a dervish of

Spilling

Wiping

Checks

And balances

Corner booth man is gone

Another stiff

Oh well

She deserved it

Gathering his napkin

She allows a small

Tear

As the fifty dollar bill falls

From the fingers of

Grace


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