Sunday, September 28, 2008

Lunch

Requiring spontaneity. Lighting that summoning cigarette as I wait for the bus. It comes, as these words flow through my head; my day. Cause and reason unwound by chaos. Seasons echo within the flowing moods as clouds roll in and by. I hope it doesn't rain till after I'm home; but stick around 5 minutes that'll change.

Why is it everything seems uphill?

I wish I had a small sketchbook instead of listening to a co worker argue with an intended mate at a table near by while I await my lunch. Wow! The baggage she carries. She had this very paniked look in her eyes as we were introduced as they started leaving. So much read in those looks and words unsaid.

Now the corner is unbostructed from bodies sitting as my waiter walks by; still with no soup. Movement only stirs between the bus girl clearing and my pen in our little corner of the restaurant. A cloud grows outside of the window facing the Canyon; the ruffled edgeds colored in blue.

Ahh, alas the soup. French Onion. "Where are the onions?" I ask my spoon as it stirs the bottom of very nearly broth; searching. Shaking my head I release all words but one; eat.

3 comments:

Terry said...

Glad you had a good lunch are you still eating lunch??? (LOL)

Constant Wanderer said...

Wow, I like this one. It's amazing what you see in people.

CeeGee said...

Deep sadness read between her lines...