Seven PoemsEmily, You Know Who You Are
You go to culinary school at night,
you have short hair, you wear glasses
with square plastic frames. I caught you
looking before I turned to ask youyour name. We’d barely started talking
when my friend wanted to leave.
It was her birthday or I’d have stayed
to borrow your recipes. I looked backfrom the sidewalk and saw you
Seattle Center, Sunday Afternoon
winking through the window of the bar.
You were a volunteer at Folklife
without an official t-shirt but with charmand an accent. Norwegian? We talked
but I became shy. You said you’d helpedtwo lost children that morning. I hope
to find you again. When we metI didn’t introduce myself. Please write
Girl with a Gray Weimaraner
and I’ll tell you exactly who I am.
I was eating a salad outside and caught your eye
four or five times. You were stretching
while on the phone. You had short, dark hair,
a pair of sunglasses pushed up on your head.I wish I would have stopped and said hello.
I smiled but got nervous. I was the girl
in the black tank and blue shorts. You have
the best smile. I wanted you to know—ifby chance you read this—you made my afternoon.
Lunch at Lotus
Last Saturday afternoon, we were sitting
at adjacent tables, both with male companions.Were you with yours? You wore black glasses
and a gray turtleneck. I was in a white jacketand kept looking over at you. I remember
seeing you once downtown, dressedall in red leather. Can I take you to dinner?
Girl on the Underground Line
I stood nearby until the seat opened
beside you. You helped with my crossword
and drank iced coffee. I took your stopto keep talking while you smoked
and walked to work. When you had to go
you kissed me on the cheek and saidyou’re stuck in a situation but to try again
Cute Thirty-ish Nurse
in a month. I’m trying hard to wait.
Last Tuesday night you were working
triage in the ER when I came inwith my father. He has a heart murmur.
Not the time or place to ask you outbut I’ve thought of you all week. I’m tall
with a thin build. My blonde hairin a ponytail, I was wearing sweats
and a blue t-shirt, looking sleepyand frumpy, and you looked so good.
Starbucks on Olive
You sat near the door, studying algebra.
We smiled a couple times. Nothing beyond that.I read The Stranger and couldn’t think of a way
to approach you. Nothing less attractivethan being disruptive and presumptuous
so I didn’t buy you another Americanoand say what a charming bookworm you make.