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She drifts by with lunch in silver-foil
To find her boyfriend outside on his bike;
And I am left to ruminate that she
Is a closed book
Save for the meal she served to us
At Joya, where she works,
Relying on her tips, before she leaves
To drift into a world we'll never know,
A way of life we'll never comprehend;
For while our paths have crossed this lunchtime, her's
Is lost beyond the smile she gave us
As I paid the bill -
And even if sometime we return
She will have moved on
Till nothing can recall today
Save for these few lines
Which she will never see.
Brian Hick March 2015
©copyright Sally Hick 2.3.26
