LUNCH AT LULU’S DINER

The waitress delivers the plate to the woman sitting alone. In a double strand of pearls and a satin suit, she looks ready for a black-tie event, not for lunch at a dingy diner. Her voice resonates across the tables. She says, This is a beautiful salad. Who knew a diner served food like this? Is she speaking to me? I feel I should say something. I stand and walk closer to get a better look at the woman; a napkin tucked into the collar of her pink pussybow blouse. She blots her fuchsia lipstick on a hankie and continues to make a fuss over her Cobb salad, as if she’s the winner of an unforeseen prize. Look at this salad, she says. I ooh and aah over the shredded cheddar, crumbled blue cheese, bacon, even the chopped egg. Enjoy, I say. On my way to pay my bill, I glance back. She hasn’t lifted a fork.

Loneliness look here
so much food no one to sit. 
join me take a bite

Linda Laderman is a Michigan poet and writer. Her poetry has appeared in numerous literary journals, including or forthcoming in Does it Have Pockets,  SWWIM, ONE ART, Thimble Literary Magazine, Vita Poetica, Pensive, Action-Spectacle, The Scapegoat Review, Rust &Moth, The Westchester Review, The Midway Journal, and Mom Egg Review. She is  a recipient of Harbor Review’s Jewish Women’s Prize and was a 2023 Pushcart Prize nominee. Her micro-chapbook, What I Didn’t Know I Didn’t Know, can be found online at https://www.harbor-review.com/what-i-didnt-know-i-didnt-know. Find her at lindaladerman.com.