Local diner. Corner booth. (In memoriam)

I sit down across from you,
and your withered warm hand shakily reaches out
to pat my cheek.

You smile,
and your eyes, dim and sad,
suddenly twinkle and brighten.

They are sky blue
and they smile at me
from your aged face.

I ask how you are doing,
and you say, I'm fine honey,
so glad to have a little company.

You were so lonely
in your room
with the view of the ocean and the hills.

But you were so lonely.
So very alone.

You wanted to walk to your local diner
and sit in the corner booth,
with red vinyl seats and a white chipped counter.

You would say hello to everyone
who came in for coffee or breakfast
and they would sit down to visit with you.

You would eat real eggs,
and real bacon,
and drink black coffee, while visiting.

You would not be lonely.

I hope that your heaven
is a corner booth in the local diner,
with scrambled eggs and bacon,
surrounded with visitors.


Thank you for visiting with me.