Seeking the Sweet

The couple in front of me in a wooden booth

scoop their lunch up between them as they speak
a language other than my own. My tiny soup cup
is empty. I poor sweetener into my bitter black tea.

The man at the table is momentarily left alone
by his petite companion and he see-saw leans

away from his seat to try to follow her.
A passing employee helps him to lift up and out.
Two men holding hands to share balance,

as if old friends and a cordial
politeness arrives in that minute.

At work a friend is leaving to take another job.
I buy a candle for her as parting gift

from the café’s gift shop. I wonder
what to take down from the shelf

persimmon, moonlit bayberry, or sensuous
narcissus.

When I return to slide into my spot, the couple is gone.

Replaced with a father and a fidgety boy on all fours

under the table exploring for lost rubber bands.
While the man talks without attention on his cell phone.

The earlier afternoon’s conversation with its hushed cadence
lingers. A honeysuckle candle wrapped in turquoise tissue.

My hands rest next to what is missing.

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