Morning truckstop waitress snaps her gum, says,
"Hon, whatcha havin'?"; her stocking run
glued with clear nail polish,
her sturdy legs pegged
in scuffed oxfords, old gum stuck
to older soles.
Her even older soul
smiles through tired eyes.
She's seen everything about humanity;
world reflected in a dewdrop.
------
A lifetime of carrying loads -
she's used to it;
arms encircle tray wide enough
to hold
the whole world's troubles
and plenty of food,
as she pours your coffee
black
no sugar;
strong
the way you need it.
