Writer of words. Builder of worlds.

Empty Restaurant: A Poem

Empty tables stand
under glowing orange globes.
Wine glasses glisten.
Doors open, letting
cold air blow in, shivering
people order, then
leave when food is done.
Kitchen returns to quiet,
prepping for the rush
that may never come.
Waiters waiting wistfully,
seats remain empty,
the whole building waiting to
be filled with diners to fill.


Summer at Hotel Fulcrum, Part 9: Meetings


Update and Thoughts on Editing


  1. I love this!
    Found you through Julie Duffy’s Storyaday website. So excited to find another short story writer and poet.

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