andrea the woman walks into the restaurant
i know her order already
i watch as she sits in her usual chair
at her usual table and glances oddly
toward the empty chair at her side
she pulls it out
his ghost sits there
her eyes wash over me
measuring my grief for her
i know the order is cut in half
just as her heart was
only two short months ago
when he left her side so suddenly
my attempts at conversation with her
leave me fumbling and uncomfortable
i can't replace his words
but i push in his chair
moonshine i was a widow last night in a dream ,bending over a clear running stream... 000618
what's it to you?
who go