The lights, the ceiling, the roof beams,
The menus. I try to look anywhere
But at her as her skilful hands
Perform their well practised dance
Behind the counter.

The lunch time rush has faded,
But her brightness has not.
Her smile is a pleasing constant
As people come and go.

Even in the shadow cast by
The afternoon Sun outside the
Window, she is not darkened.

When I move from lamplight to
Daylight, I will leave the light
Behind.

04/23/2012

Posted on 06/17/2012
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