Short poems

Brown tablecloth.

Brown tablecloth.

03 July 2018

Reasons in sauce.

Written of course in the diners remorse.
A fine word, harsh word, badly placed hand and she ran all out.
That’s it, just up and gone.
Arched eyebrow at a table neighbour
Flicked the bill at a tight lipped waiter
I’ll be sleeping on the sofa later.

© G.P Williamson 2018

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