When a time of patience leads to a poem.
Photo by Spencer Davis on Unsplash
Waiting At Wimpy’s
The server asks
Would I like something to drink
and a menu.
I reply
“Someone will join me soon.
He shouldn’t be long.
Just a coffee, please, while I wait.”
I arrange my pen and notebook
on the red and blue plastic tabletop
above a checkered floor.
On the walls
posters of famous people I vaguely remember.
Oldie Goldies play
and my head starts bopping.
I lip-sync along to the chorus
remembering days long gone.
Beside the menu I didn’t want
rests a book of memoir prompts.
The hope of things to come.
I glance through
short memories the author wrote.
And now here’s mine.
As I wait.
PS. It’s been an hour—and I’m still here with my cold coffee
five micro-memoirs of the Sixties later.
’Til next time —thank you for reading, and remember you are loved by the One who created you in His image.
~ Lynne
Lynne Collier 