They’re telling me I can’t have my usual.
Pearl says, “No eggs.”
I ask for coffee to think, to wake up from
a night with no sleep. “Are we due for weather?”
I can’t shovel weather on no sleep.
“He’s away for four days,” I answer Pearl.
It sounds like I said twelve. Did I tell him,
Come home? I was thinking, Come home.
I was thinking, Don’t go away again. I’m selfish.
Hap is asleep on my feet. The new girl walks
around him with hot coffee. Pearl yells
from the back, “Eggs! Ten minutes!”
“I’ll wait!” I answer. I’ve got eggs at home. Some-
thing ’bout the butter here plus the black pepper’s
coarse and bites back. Winter sky. Sleet. “I love
my husband too much,” I say. It’s 10am
when I get my usual, and another three days until
Sal. Come home.