Where dreams had died and…

I am in his city after a long, long time
my impudent feet, despite my stern command,
traverse the same old path
they had taken some twenty years ago

It is a surprise that the place still stands
despite the modernization whirlwind
I make for the same corner table
the gladioli in the crystal vase
bring back memories that need exorcism

I order a bottle of Zinfandel to quieten the ghosts
as I wait, I glare at the textured walls
that snag my tortured thoughts
which have gone into a tailspin
listening to Cale in the background

There’s no buzz of conversation
as it is a slow Monday
discreetly under the table, I kick off my heels
and I can swear they sighed inaudibly
being caressed by the cool marble floor 

“Still the barefoot goddess!”
the voice from the past that could liquify my heart!
exasperated with my imagination
I shakily reach for my glass
he slides into the chair opposite me and just sits there_

biting my lips I try to contain the decades old maelstrom inside
it threatens to spill from my eyes
looking intently and earnestly into my welled up eyes,
he says, “Please let me begin from the beginning…

Written for dVerse poetics. Today’s host, Merril, says: So today, in my father’s honor, I invite you to write a poem of any style about a restaurant.