Sunday, February 6, 2011

Waiting for a Friend at the Diner

In the circle of
voices many layered
a void
of course

To the rattle of
clatter of steel
mind flattened
at the source.


I really do write most of my poetry on napkins while waiting for friends. If she had not arrived so soon, this would have been longer.


Pep said...

Oh my friend
Always touching on a core
That is.

Your poetry
Smoothly deep
I love to read.

Stirling Davenport said...


Thank you for your
short and pithy

Kathryn Esplin said...

A brilliant strategy to write on cocktail napkins, the moments when we are most inspired.

A beautiful write. More, please.

Stirling Davenport said...

Oh, thanks, Kathryn. I posted a couple of napkin poems here.

You can imagine me pulling more napkins out of the container, feverishly trying to finish. The plates always get in the way when they arrive.

Moineau En France said...

i have done a lot of that... and they are still on the napkins lol! probably wise to transfer... i love how you write too: you have gotten easier, simple and smooth and ever so profound. xoxoxoxoxo

Stirling Davenport said...

Oh, Laura, do you think so? I'm happy to hear that ... things always flow well in a diner.

Moineau En France said...