The Muse

(An International Journal of Poetry)

ISSN 2249 2178


Volume-3                                                      DECEMBER -2013                                           Number-2





Across the Table

 by Denise Mostacci Sklar


booths fill
lids curl up
pouring cream
into thick
stained mugs-
mother, daughter,
and sister,
two friends
hunched over lottery
tickets hopeful, scratching,
as lifetime companions stare
into plates filled,
that separate their
old faces, worn out bodies.
And the Greek waitresses smile
dark-eyed and tired
taking orders, writing
checks, filling cups.

A white haired woman
old and bent enters
with cane, her mint green
pants loose, tired feet swimming
in thick black shoes, two inch
soles, she makes her way
to the corner table, arm and arm
with health aid, they sit,
coffee is served. Her fingers claw-like
reach into small bowl
of creamers, fumble as she pecks
at lid- trying, deliberate
to open the tiny cup crushing
from her effort, she licks her finger
a drop of cream, the rest
spills out erratic. Her teaspoon
circles the black and white liquid
stirring to a dull brown, one teaspoonful
slips in and out, cup to mouth.