By a Salad

Back then
when I worked downtown
driving to work in the black dawn
waiting with the whispering elderly
for the waitress

Pecan
cherry and apple
warming under crowded heat lamps
noticing nothing, not how she moved nor
the hue of her iris

Would she
have only heard me
singing songs and smiling slightly
I'd have cut the moon down in that moment
to live in darkness

I quit
Moved to the outskirts
kept quiet, crept to my bedroom
sat in an infinite silent stillness
with the dead roses