Her middle name is Rose  

She asks me may I take your drink order?  

Sweet peach tea I answer.  

Do you know what you want to eat
or should I come back?  

I’m reading I tell her.  

There is much to read she says.
I’ll bring your tea right out.  

I do not tell her that I am reading her.
It is her eyes that captured me.
The color is not important.
The light in them is magnetic;
I see so many women without the light
I see in hers
& I want her to walk away
& return.
I want to know whether the light returns,
shimmers like sunrise
on Lake Cumberland.  

The light within
has remained,
returning in her eyes
& she moves beside me;
to a point where her eyes are hidden.
I order.  

Are you tattooed all over I ask?
She moves across from me, sliding into the bench.
I only have two she puts her left hand
over her right shoulder.
One is my grandmother’s name
& the other is my middle name, Rose.