The Waitress’ Neck

A flash of flesh,

fleeting like the undersides

of those beech leaves across the street,

glides along my eye amid the clatter

of cutlery and breakfast hum, sunlight

on orange juice and eggs

on coffee pot and flower vase

on the bird pendant of her necklace.

***

The waitress’ neck

couldn’t remember

shadows

beneath crabapples

beside a quarry pond

a diver

dropping through the humid air

quick laughing splashes

a slick

expanse of skin half out

half under cold water

but somehow leaves

them all beside my coffee cup.

***

A small bird in blue darts

beneath a neighbor’s table,

a blue Nemisia bloom

falls beside another

dropping through

this summer air.