Sitting alone at my table for two
staring right down wondering what I should do
xerophthalmia happening just like before
then there you come, right in the door.
In a purple Kimono you rekindle my flame
Using a metaphor, forgetting my name
In business casual an end to the day
I worry about turnover and want you to stay
The fees that abound contradict how I feel
Making this dinner, the loveliest meal.
©2022 CBialczak Poetry