THE WAITRESS
Andrew Riutta
 

In two days she turns just twenty-one. Twenty-one. So young. So pale. I tell her she should stay away from the bars. I tell her she should go out west and save the whales, or a redwood-or the endangered laughter of working-class people who go out on porches at dusk to hum the same hymns over and over in their heads that their grand- parents did. She tells me that saving herself from her father is hard enough.

peaceful autumn-
a window display
of hunter's orange

My name is Andrew Riutta. I live in Traverse City, Michigan, along with my wife Lori and my three year old daughter, Issabella. I've been writing now for a little over twelve years.

Copyright 2006: Simply Haiku