Rosie and Max by William Ogden Haynes

It had been that kind of a day,

waiting tables at the Ten Mile Café.

Her feet ached from walking the treadmill

between the kitchen and dining room.

Almost no one was satisfied

with their food or the service.

The tips were like rare flowers

she gathered among the dirty plates,

crumpled napkins and breadcrumbs.

When she got home,

Rosie kicked off her shoes

and got into her robe.

As she watched her dinner

turning on the microwave carousel,

the Siamese cat rubbed against her legs,

his tail vibrating with excitement

after a long day alone.

She set the table with two place mats,

one for Max and another for her.

The cat sat patiently by his place mat

eyeing a stainless steel bowl of Friskies

on the kitchen counter.

When the microwave sounded its tone

she spooned the left over lasagna

onto a china plate

and poured a glass of Chianti
She put their dinners on the table

and lit two candles.

But before she had even blown out the match,

Max was already licking her lasagna.

She sat down and took a sip of her wine.

It had been that kind of a day

waiting tables

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