The Napkin Trick

Poetry
Ana Maria Caballero


Glasses and napkins
Photo Credit: Nick Treby

It’s been done before:

The need for conversation
starts and ends with a slow walk
around a familiar, short block—
the light purse or empty pocket.

(Tonight
after all
should only call for some cash.)

A set of doors is chosen
but not broached,

and reluctance comes as a reminder

of isolated drinks
where music from cars
(circling the block in search of a parking spot)
is forgotten
on the front and back
of a red paper napkin.

pencil

Ana Maria Caballero currently lives in Bogotá, Colombia with her husband and eleven-month-old son. During her son’s naps, she created a blog where she shares her poems and love of literature. Email: amc[at]licorela.com

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