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The Customer II
by Anita MacOn what must be long days
I can hear
the slightest intimation
of an accent
slip out.
(It's almost enough
to forgive
the way you never tip.)
Silver-blue pierces
from an ageless face,
betrayed by gray hair
so easily forgotten
amidst your eloquent words of
warmth and wisdom.
(Almost enough to forgive...)
Near daily I am a crude girl
flushing under the attention
of a man twice my years.
(Almost... enough...)
My name is annunciated
so particularly on your lips;
some afternoons I lie and wonder
at your care for it.
(E...n...o...u...g...h.)
04/14/2008 Posted on 04/14/2008
Copyright © 2024 Anita Mac
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 04/14/08 at 05:05 PM One of those great poems where you wish there was just a little more. Not because it's lacking, but because you want to see just a moment past where the piece ends. |
| Posted by Morgan D Hafele on 04/16/08 at 09:16 PM i'm going to agree with mr. ricard on this one because i also want to see just a moment past the end... |
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