Restaurant Poem

Over Appleby’s Salads
--June 13, 2009

Brown eyes look into blue eyes
familiar from forty years ago,
she and I shiver through
an unofficial reunion supper
on the night of the official one.

The blast of the a/c
makes us both wish
we had a sweater.

God help us,
we’ve turned into
our mothers.

--Barbara Malcolm

(c) Barbara Malcolm

Update on June Challenge

I'm new to blogging and was out of town when I started the blog. As a result, I did not read carefully the e-mail I received from Google, and did not click where I should have clicked to activate the account. If you submitted a poem on or before June 15, I did not receive it. Please resend it by clicking on "comment."

Thanks!

Wilda

Wilda Morris's June Poetry Challenge

The June poetry challenge is to write a restaurant poem. It could be about the menu, the food, the décor, the people with whom you are eating (or imagine you are eating), the cooks or waitstaff, or others being served.

Here are two examples from my book, Szechwan Shrimp and Fortune Cookies: Poems from a Chinese Restaurant.

Send your submission as a comment by June 15. I will select one or two poems to post on the blog.

Good eating – and good writing!

Wilda


egg roll

vegetables
and meat

wrapped
in the cozy embrace
of a pastry blanket

a lesson for us
on a cold night

Wilda Morris


Office Lunch for Five

Four men eat, listen and laugh
as she complains about her husband.

He fussed that I didn’t do laundry
last night and he has a million shirts.

Anyway, he’s a guy—no one cares
what he wears. I work full-time too

but he does nothing around the house
except sometimes sweep a little.

It’s easier just to do things myself—
anything he does, he does badly.

The men laugh again. It’s working
for him, isn’t it?

Wilda Morris


(c) 2009 Wilda W. Morris