No decaf

May 31, 1994|By Joyce S. Brown

"No decaf," she growls.

This woman heavy as a bear

resents our presence

in her corner eatery.

The place is empty but for us.

Her mouth turns down when I say,

"Water then; we'll pay."

She brings two thick glasses

without ice. "You leave soon,"

she grunts. "We sanitize.

Ten minute." She wants us gone,

out of sight like her family,

her cold flat in Moscow,

her hope for happiness here.

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