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New York Kind of Love
My woman with the scarlet hat
is seated at dinner with a suited man.
She sits with her back towards me,
Though I would love to glimpse her face.
Does she know I’m here? no.
Would she still recognize me? yes.
The light from the windows streams in
casting a glow in the room.
I would feel its warmth if
I weren’t so cold.
This boring suit man fills up the spaces
where I could talk.
Loud chatter fills the room mixing with
quiet whispers.
I wish I would hear her melodic voice
like church bells chiming.
I stay as silent as I can
in order to avoid disturbing.
I place the bland bread on my numb tongue
pretending to be amused.
I shouldn’t but,
I allow my thoughts to drift;
Back to the one who holds my heart,
The one whose place I cannot fill.
I smell her perfume, warm and inviting,
her honey vanilla scent.
I wonder what would happen if
I had the courage…
No. I can’t. I’ve let her go.
I must pay the price.
He picks up his coat and slips away
seemingly unnoticed.
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Two points of view poem inspired by Edward Hopper's painting New York Restaurant