Zandra Mink-Fuller

Last Nerve

The lady sitting at the counter rubbing her straw
up and down against the apparently empty
Styrofoam cup,

sent my last nerve into the empty space
of the diner where Ruby’s young innocent
hands once served me hot bitter coffee

with a smile and a flounce of her copper
colored pony tail, every morning
when I stopped
on the way to my mundane job, now

all I see is the newspaper photo the
new waitress showed me of a

tangled blue Toyota, with license tags,
” Ruby Red”,
wrapped around a broken
electric pole.

Zee writes from a barn loft in rural Texas with a great view from her window which offers ample fodder for her stories and poetry. She has been published but desires to see more of her work in print.