A Barista’s Blues

 
A BARISTA’S BLUES

I
find
that I
keep looking
at the clock, waiting
for her arrival at seven.
I wonder if she knows she’s the bright spot of my day.

Each
day
I get
another
piece of her puzzle.
New information is added
to what I already learned about her yesterday.

She
used
to be
a stranger.
With each cup I’ve filled,
she has filled me with pieces of
her life—the person hiding behind those baby blues.

2013-11-06
P. Wanken

 

Written for Poetic Asides (2013 Poem-A-Day Chapbook Challenge Day 6: Another’s Perspective).  Also shared at “100 Days of Fall/Winter 2013.”

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