A Poem-A-Day Celebration

Poem submission by copyists

A winsome man, who
At half past twelve every day
Asks for a water and a decaf,
Waters the plant 
On one coffee shop table 
And under the careful lamp light,
His eyes would retreat
Into thought of 
I don’t know what
But he would gently
Sip the rest of his coffee,
Complete a crossword,
Tuck his chair in
And leave, newspaper under arm,
With those same eyes.

I thought
I should tell him
He needn’t bother himself
With watering that little tree,
That I, or some other employee,
Could take care of it.
But when I went up to him
And he looked straight at me,
My lips could only muster, “Hello,”
And his gave back, “I was
Beginning to wonder if you’d 
Ever come talk to me
After all that staring.”