Composure
I am at the table
with spotted napkin
playing connect the dots
lost in thought
a poem forming
in glass rings & ink blots
The server lifts a finger
one moment,
one moment,
for the nth time
and its fine
maybe when
my turn comes around
I'll know the order
2025 16 APR
You have read your one article for the month.
Sign up for Prose. to read an extra article for free.
Sign up for Prose. to read an extra article for free.