"At the Table"

by Jeph Johnson 

Every week at the table

I sense her smile

but I fear she's smiling

for somebody else.

I've entertained engaging

more eye contact

since our first foray

when she turned her back
But I mustn't fret

and keep playing along,

perhaps misinterpreting

her nonchalance
While the rest just read

the other's words,

her flurry of flattery

calms my nerves
But I've felt similar

enchanting eyes

condemning me

at other times
So I just sit still

in my chair and ponder

all the ways

she might respond
Hoping to face

a different fate,

needing her grace

to alleviate
The frustrations I feel

all the time

over these hours

she still isn't mine.
When do I make

my move when I

am not even sure

if I should try?

Author's Notes/Comments: 

for Caroline, 2017 

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