Delphi told me to come in and eat.
The food was good and hot.
A solid day of physical labor
made it taste all the better.
Delphi’s name was on her blouse
above where her right hand held the coffee pot.
She spent all day going table to table
scratching orders and refilling.
I saw most of the patrons
she attended
saw through her like a shadow—
unless something was wrong.
Delphi wrote worldly prophecies
on the bottom of the tickets
but few people bothered to read them
before the pages were impaled.
copyright © 2022 Kenneth P. Gurney
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