1
two Catholic school cheerleaders enter
heavy jackets to ward off the cold
too much makeup
their parents and siblings follow shortly behind

2
She stands still smiling gently at the end of the day
and the beginning of the night
her auburn hair reflecting the glare
of the fluorescent light
it's pulled up as usual and
as usual her bangs conceal her forehead
but her neck remains uncovered
I open the door and return the smile
but she's looking away and so I
just walk to the teas and let my gaze
wander, trying to find something
relaxing but won't put me to sleep
I stand too long because my thoughts
linger on the grey shirted girl
whom I've seen a dozen times
but never asked her name
the place is familiar now - the smells
of coffee and the bad music playing
on the radio
odd, it's a different station now

3
I first met her on a friday night, much
like tonight but colder. Steve was
with me and remarking on my
shamelessness as I tried to flirt with
her I was just ordering an espresso
it was hardly my fault I guess
the first thing I noticed is that
she was different than the girl I
had always previously seen here - the
guy I couldn't tell because I
couldn't remember what he had
looked like, but the girl was different
- more slender, gentler, smiled more
she had one of those smiles that
always seemed like it was just
for you, no matter who she sent it
towards. her hair was lighter,
more of an auburn than brown, really
it was a dark night despite the
stars, a night that sucked the light
from the air and blanketing the world
in shadow, but it was a cozy
darkness, a comforting one

4
she presses her slender lips together as
she writes down the latest order,
her hand scribbling the neat cursive
I can only imagine she possesses. The music
is different tonight, and I wonder if she
changed it because I complained of too
many commercials on the other radio station.
Soft conversations drown it this time,
though - maybe it's merely my imagination.
I stare out the window, watching her
reflection on the glass - the night outside
becomes inconsequential. I see her smile
and want to smile too. I look back at
what I've written and decide to
start over, again.

02/24/2002

Posted on 02/24/2002
Copyright © 2025 Gary Hoffmann