They’d Agreed to Meet at the Diner

An unexpected poem on a chilly Sunday night.

they’d agreed to meet at the diner
the one in beacon 
with all the red light
she picked a table in the back
so she could see her coming
hugo brought her water, said hello
nice to see you
and suddenly there she was
all bustle and bundle 
a tornado of golden hair and yellow wool
wearing the same green jacket
from before
smiling so wide
she was momentarily blinded
standing up too quickly
knocking over the salt
crying “it’s really you!”
arms stretched wide open
anticipating the embrace
that felt like home

(Yankee Clipper Diner, Beacon NY, Jennifer Sarah Blakeslee, 2025)