A Diner in the Eighties

 

 

A smokescreen curled round a red neon sign,

clouding my vision as a shrill whistle hovered

in the air-conditioned room.

A patchwork of various people chitter chattered

amongst themselves,

with a whinny shrieked laugh in the background.

Some fussy youngsters sat with grandma,

as she attempted to quiet their cackles.

The blazing sun beat on the windows,

melding with the intense cooking of the kitchen.

The sweat and frenzy of the summer day

wore on people’s faces like masks.

Mens’ shirts were unbuttoned with being free

and women wore short snappy sundresses and

tank tops.

A pungent smell of fried foods hung thick

in the air as exhausted waitresses flung their orders

at the stout short order cook.

A strong essence of vanilla

and a rich burst of coffee brewing enticed me,

convincing me to order a piece of

homemade pie.

A diner of the eighties…can you picture it?

I started writing this piece in 1992 and here I am finishing and polishing it 25 years later! 

All My Best,

Heart and Soul 💕