A dim flickering light guides the way inside
To a dusky little room with a worn counter
On the right. Behind the counter is a dry
Old soul trapped within the confines of a
Beguiling young woman. “How many in your
Party?” She proceeds to ask, as you look into
Her face. “Just one” you claim as she glides
To lead you to your seat. “Here I have a
Booth that should suit you just fine. I’ll
Leave you for a moment.” She turns and walks
Away. You look around surprised to find
The dimness has started radiating brightly.
You start observing tarnishes all around
The floor, the ceiling, the walls in between
Even the decorations lack perfection.
Yet somehow it fits with the lady up front
That there be usage to her building.
As you continue to look, you notice a stone stove
That might be older than time. It belongs in
Rome during the past, not here in modern day.
Yet oddly it harmonized with this old soul, found
In an urban setting. They both have stories
And wisdom to share, if one would only listen.
“Are you ready to order? Or would you like another
Minute?”
“I’m ready now, a Margarita pizza please, and a
Conversation.”
“I’ll have that right up, no problem at all,
But a conversation will cost extra.”
“Sit right on down, forget the pizza, and tell me about
Yourself. This place is so worn, as are you, rest
And enjoy your evening.”
“Worn we are, but we like it that way. It leaves us
With many connections. For we both like to talk
And we both like to serve; helping others
When they are struggling and afflicted.”
“That’s marvelous,” He exclaims as he ponders
Why a woman like her would do this. There
Is something off, something not right, with this
Woman here before me. She looks so young
Yet to hear her speak, one would think she
Was in her seventies. She should be out in
The world, not locked away in the humble store
Yet here she is and here she will remain, forevermore.
