The Din (a 3-in-1 poem)

A man sits alone in a darkened restaurant, waiting for his date to arrive. His head is down, and his hands are crossed on the table in front of him. A half-melted candle, a half-empty glass of wine, and his cell phone sit on the table in front of him.

Scents of countless delicacies combine.

Enticements abounding.

Sounding china and silver sit atop the din.

Conversation flourishing.

Well-aged and fresh, friendships bloom.

Lifetimes remembered.

Hopeful new acquaintances search.

Longing for connection.

The swirl of activity surrounding me.

I sit alone.

~ elr


This poem can be read as is, by reading each of the first lines followed by the last, or by reading only the second lines.

Leave a comment and let me know which one you like best.


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