I read this headline today about the 5 experiences every Utahn should have. On the list, of course, are the National Parks, including my favorite -- Zion. It made me think of a diner in one of these small towns, and so, here is today's poem.
A large, lonely man orders a slice of Bumbleberry Pie and a Diet Coke,
a truck driver Protected by his steel framed machine,
it keeps him occupied,
it keeps him away.
Sleeves folded, fingers dry and split, he eats.
This is a long-cherished family recipe chimes the waitress,
hardened from too many late night conversations and not enough tips.
She's probably my age,
but I feel preppy and naive
Watching her work
the tables,
imagining the life she's lived,
Stretches of Catch and Release in between cigarettes and anti-wrinkle cream.
Her family secrets and
sugar
filled
cavities
replaced the fresh meat and roots of those who spoke to the hills
Rather than to Jesus,
Not phony like a fireplace and steel-toed shoes.
Are you listening on the other end?
She smiles,
our eyes meet.
I want to follow her home
to see if she has a
man who calls her honey
and babies who call her mom.
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