lunch break

the clock strikes twelve
wakes him from a daydream
time to get out of here for a bit
and be alone again

hurrying around a corner he almost
runs into a woman and her kid
licking chocolate ice cream in a cone

he breathes a sigh of relief to see
his favorite spot unoccupied
a bench beneath a tree
far enough away from the crowd

munching on his sandwich, he
scribbles some words
in his little black notebook
where he keeps a collection
of silly poems he wrote

one day he will muster
the courage to read one of them
out loud
to the girl on the fourth floor
the one with eyes that sparkle
when she smiles


© annie scribes 2017
all rights reserved


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