Appetite
(by Suzanne Baldwin Leitner)
Why do I begrudge
the older woman beside me
in the café
the noise her soup spoon
makes as it scrapes
bowl’s bottom?
Is it because she seems hurried
furtive and afraid
as if she thinks
she is taking up too much
space and
for too long?
The rattle of her ample
metal spoon
on the brittle white
finish of the bowl:
Comfort
and emptiness.
I came here to eat,
not think.
Talking to Myself ... eavesdroppers welcome 
Well..
you got to the bottom of it..didn’t you?
I think… a very strong April 1 poem.
Regards,
Doug
Thank you, Doug, and thanks for reading! I have a feeling your blog is going to be one of my daily stops from now on!
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I like this! Wow — a poem a day. I’ll be checking back often…. I’ll be curious to hear how you feel after this month of poetry. A great challenge! I expect you’ll be thinking in couplets or quatrains or maybe even sonnets! And I know April has a lot of memories for you, so this will be powerful material to probe. Looking forward to reading more….
Annie, I miss you! But it does me good to read your words, and to know you’re reading me. Let’s get together.