Written for:  Poetics Aside #350
Write a napkin poem.  I guess that could be a poem about a napkin or that involves napkins, but I think my original thought for this kind of poem would be a poem that might be scrawled onto a napkin in a rush–or maybe even slipped across (or under) the table to someone sitting with you. So maybe a warning or an invitation. As always, take the prompt where you will.

When he left their table,
a short, red-bearded man
appeared at her side,
clutching a folded white
napkin. His pale eyes
scanned the café. You must
pay attention to this note;
it is crucial. He dropped
it into her open palm. Her eyes
widened in alarm. Who are you?
she asked. Miss, my name
is unimportant, he said.
With a sense of dread, she peeled
back a corner of the napkin.
The messenger vanished. Before
she could decipher the note,
her fiancé reached the table,
rendering her unable to read it.
As she slid napkin into her purse,
her engagement ring shook
on her finger.

About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
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