Lady Patience

I'm thinking of a lady with no patience

who just sat down to try a pair of shoes.

She bared one naked foot and tensely waited

Her eyes shone bright with anger and reprove.

She pulled tight in her hands the leather laces

and stood before the shoe salesman could move.

He fell back to the floor and hesitated

While he watched her running out with a stolen shoe.

She turned the corner quickly and debated;

Should she run like a thief?

Should she seek some relief

In this cafe on a street

Where they would not know her by name.

This woman without patience ordered latte.

I was pouring milk, but curdled in her stare.

I offered her espresso or a coffee.

She said she'd have it now, she didn't care.

She spilled some as she limped

back through the lobby.

I followed with a towel and knelt beside her chair.

She dumped on me the steaming cup of coffee.

Then stood right up and left me kneeling there.

I saw that shoe and overviewed her body

As she ran out the door,

her cup smashed the floor.

She turned round a corner

And returned the stolen shoe.

That night he brought the coffee shop his story;

I heard him tell a man on the leather stool.

When I looked up from the steamer I was frothing

and the salesman spoke until the cup was cool.

I threw it out to grind some beans before he

Shot me a glance that said I was a fool.

I cursed and said "the steamer isn't working."

He chimed "Only a poor craftsman blames his tool."

So I never told him my side of the story.

He'll never know what she did

when she came in and hid.

Ordered coffee with a lid

and I served it in ceramic instead.

I'm dreaming of that lady with no patience.

I hope she comes in wanting latte again.

She won't even need to ask me for a refill

if she wears a stolen glove upon her hand.

I'd buy her all she wanted just to see her

give another barista that same scare.

I'm dreaming for that lady with no patience

to slap him with her glove and disappear.