The Sunflower Girl
Sure, it was a small diner,
but the coffee was good
& so was the blue plate special.
What made it the happenin’ place
was the waitress in the dahlia apron
who had a face like a sunflower.
It was her hair, a nimbus, a cloud, a corona;
such a radiance of light, that bright cloud
of blonde halo that made a man shake
or get a hard-on when she took his order
& the women felt either insecure or so full of joy
that someone such as she actually existed.
She made you happy just looking at her &
her mouth quivered with dimpled smiles
as she wrote two eggs over easy; cocoa for the baby
who was three, rye toast & a hot water set up for tea
She liked her job; she liked the people to like her.
It made her feel good to know that people went away with full bellies & sugary talk passing between
each other and no one on Sundays said a cross word
or thought all day. They either went to late church
or took the kids (or each other to the merry-go-round
in the park where the hills rolled & rolled green
all the way up to that place called heaven.