Escape from blaring horns,
nights filled with tossing,
project expectations and stress.
Been on two lane roads for quite a while.
Wayside diner beckons me.
Apple tree shaded walk,
bees buzz round fallen overripe fruit.
I don’t even lock the car doors.
Inside, vases with brightly colored zinnias,
oilcloth covered tables and comfy booths.
Sheila sashays over with a pleasant smile.
Nametag printed in thick magic marker.
She sets down a chipped porcelain mug,
pours in dark rich coffee right to the brim.
“What’ll ya have? Got fresh melon off the vine.
Pies are apple and blueberry today.”
“Just the coffee for now.”
She saunters back to the kitchen.
I just sit. Between sips I run my finger
slowly round the coffee mug’s lip.
I stare out the window.
No deadlines hurtling at me.
No internet connection.
I may just sit here forever.
Coffee drips create brown splotches
on my paper placemat menu.
Chalkboard over the counter
lists supper specials.
Pot roast with Betty’s gravy.
Sounds good to me.
Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. Tonight is Open Link Night and we are LIVE for the first hour, from 3 to 4 PM Boston time. That means you can link in, see friendly faces, listen to folks read their poems and, if the spirit so moves you, join in with a poem of your own. No prompt; no required form. Come join us! Image from Pixabay.com
lillian the home poet 
Thank you for hosting, Lillian. It was great to hear you read this poem. Such an idyllic place–and state of mind. I don’t eat meat, but I’m craving a piece of pie now. 😀
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Nice reading it after hearing you read Lilian
Much💜love
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I enjoyed sitting with you there at the table in the small, homey cafe. Nice details that drew me into the experience. So nice to hear you read it, and thank you for your hospitality as host today ❤
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Great. Now I’ve drooled all over my keyboard, Lillian. Thanks a bunch. And thanks for letting us hear you read.
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A great poem of peace and tranquility Lillian. I will have the pot roast and gravy! Yum!
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This is gorgeously, gorgeously rendered, Lillian! 😀 I especially love the image; “fresh melon off the vine,” and “Pies are apple and blueberry,”.. thank you so much for hosting us tonight. You were fabulous! 💝💝
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This is so ‘real’ I am there, I can taste, feel, see. Great write, Lillian.
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Any poem that ends with pot roast and gravy is fine in my book! This poem is comfort food for the soul! JIM
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Sounds wonderful to me as well, Lillian. I love the cosy feel of your poem and your meeting today. Thanks for making us all feel at home.
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This sounds like a movie to me: we don’t have such places in Europe! I’d love to do a US road trip one day: I’ve even dreamt about it…
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The closest I’m ever likely to get to a wayside diner – felt I was sitting in there with you. Lovely feeling of getting off the treadmill, reconnecting with the simple things in life.
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I could relate to your poem. I drove to Vermont last weekend. No rushing around just breathing in the moments. I actually walked across a covered bridge. Yes, just sipping in the quietness of life.
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What a pleasant moment.
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You captured beautifully that suspended moment of time when one is totally in it.
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I want to be there with my feet up eating Betty’s pot roast and gravy, and everything else! A crisp and effective mood piece that captures the essence of being in the now.
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Sounds like a wonderful place… just to sit there and enjoy the atmosphere and the food
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Such visual sensory details you’ve described here, Lillian! I felt as if I had stepped into a lush painting and was part of the scene 🙂
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