The poetry of john collins

A table for one.

A table for one,
the loneliest place in the room.
Over in the corner,
no candles, no wine.
Just a table for one.
Unshared except for
the silver, a plate, a napkin.
An empty chair
a reminder that its
just a table for one.

I can’t finish my food.
It doesn’t need seasoning
it needs a warm hand
reaching across the table,
just a touch, a smile.
Someone to convert this
table for one
into an experience
instead of an ordeal.


john collins, a retired Pharmacist and Educator,  has been writing for 40 years and now is attempting to compile his work as well as just begun to submit to journals,  He has been published in Dissident Voice and Pangolin Review.  His work often is about injustice, war devastations, as well as the many dualities of life experiences.

4 comments

  1. I am sure you mean “warm” hand in line 3 of the second stanza. I especially felt the poignancy of the first 5 lines of that second stanza. Thank you!

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    • Yes, there was a misprint and I am sorry. I hope that the rest though came through which I assume that it did by your comment. Thanks for the comment and I wish your week to be full of enjoyable activities.

      Liked by 1 person

    • How so true. And I see so many lonely people over in the corner eating and for me it becomes truly an ordeal. Thanks for the comment. Have a terrific day.johnl50

      Like

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