Missed the chatter of this place
and my wandering mind
at a table,
lone observer of sunday brunch
dates & after church get-togethers,
am I that singular diner,
that mysterious fool?
sits by himself, aging,
dying--apart from greater
humanity,
sipping coffee in my emptiness?
what could fill my soul?
when it's all--
but it's all--
gone
and two eggs, bacon,
toast, home fries, plate
remain
