Restaurant fragments
That day we were in Burgundy’s
and somebody played the notes
of “Ballade pour Adeline”
on the piano
and it was peaceful in that restaurant
while a waiter brought the menu
and I ordered a bottle of white wine for you
and drank a glass of golden Hunters.
You were busy with your notebook
and were searching for a shopping list
as if suddenly it had disappeared
but everything was inter-textual
and our life played out in small happenings.
Much too quickly the time between us
was running out
so as if you already
had other greener pastures
and you were busy with the list
of things that we have to buy
and the quietness of the restaurant
came to lie in my heart.
poem by Gert Strydom
Added by Poetry Lover
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