Awesome! she said as soon as I spoke
a few words for coffee. Can I get your name?
Don, I said, D-O-N, and felt stupid
for spelling it out, until she said Cool!
It was raining and my desk job
three blocks away, four stories up,
so I said Make that extra hot
and she said No worries – how’s your day so far?
OK, I mumbled, and she said Right on!
Anything else with that today?
I was about to say no thanks but my eye
caught on the bouquet of biscotti
and I pointed to the ginger one.
Excellent! she said, your total comes to $3.50.
Which is ridiculous for a small paper cup
of steamed milk and a biscuit to stir it with
but I counted out three ones a quarter two nickels a dime
and five pennies and she said Perfect!
My drink was on the bar – Eight-ounce extra hot
skinny no-whip one-pump mocha for Dan –
and I carried it out into the cold rain,
the awesome unsung day.

From Because You Might Not Remember (Finishing Line Press, 2010).
This poem first appeared in Cloudbank.
Used here with the author’s permission.