The Smallest Things
I click a pen whenever I meet someone new.
When they ask why, I tell the story of
how my grandfather met his second wife-
he worked at a pen factory,
she at the front desk across the street.
Every morning upon seeing her,
he would consider
going over and sharing his stale coffee,
but she looked like a tea-loving girl.
She flashed a smile
as he once dropped a pallet of Bics,
the ink spilling in lines
of black and blue, red and green
throughout the road.
Each one clicked as they hit the ground
and she rushed over to play Pick-Up-Sticks
in her patched-up pantsuit.
He thanked her with dinner and a ring.
Perhaps one day
I will hear the click that brings my true love.
https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/40fqko/a_letter_to_him/cyw9jgz
https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/40ou6p/youre_not_alone/cyw9tm6
Posted Jan 13, 2016, 4:38 AM UTC