the jewel
cafeteria noises
a clutter of sound
the smell of bacon
and cigarette smoke
her voice
on the other side of the room
it has a diamond edge
cuts through the noise perfectly
she is sitting with others
they are tall or short
you tell yourself
that you will not talk to her
she has burned the last bridge
but of course
you are wrong
you would die to talk to her
cry to talk to her
but it is too late
because she is gone
you had your head in your hands
you lost her
you are confused
cannot figure out
which way she has gone
are surprised
because you can still hear
the cutting edge of her voice
Copyright © michael dennis / South Western Ontario Poetry 1983
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