Restaurant
Restaurants
are happy places
brimming with noise and activity
people sit in booths
to eat and drink
but more than that
to talk
about the weather
the family news
about friends and relatives
the word is
that Uncle Joe is getting senile
that the kid has ADHD
that the dog died
the noise is deafening
people shouting across the table
all competing for the right to speak
above the clank of dishes
the scrape of silverware
the restaurant roars
like a jet engine
the waiter keeps coming around
asking if everything is all right
the birthday trio sings happy birthday
someone spills his drink
the baby stares in wonderment and awe
then finally the bill
which brings everyone back to reality
a price on everything
we sign the receipt for good times
we leave it there
reunion leads to sad goodbyes.
the tip under the plate.
keith jeffries
Sat 20th Apr 2019 14:54
d.k.,
This is one of your best poems to date as you captivate perfectly the ambience of a restaurant in full flood. As with all good descriptive poetry you take the reader into the restaurant and allow his or her imagination to be free.
Thank you for this
Keith