Seems like a long time <br />Since the waiter took my order. <br />Grimy little luncheonette, <br />The snow falling outside. <br /> <br />Seems like it has grown darker <br />Since I last heard the kitchen door <br />Behind my back <br />Since I last noticed <br />Anyone pass on the street. <br /> <br />A glass of ice-water <br />Keeps me company <br />At this table I chose myself <br />Upon entering. <br /> <br />And a longing, <br />Incredible longing <br />To eavesdrop <br />On the conversation <br />Of cooks.<br /><br />Charles Simic<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-partial-explanation/
