You watch her wipe the Formica clean
Green vines curl through the broken screen
Her apron holds a coffee stain
Steam rises from the chipped terrain
She serves the rust she serves the moss
Time stops moving at her cross
No customers just growing things
She hums a tune the wild birds sing
Your lens catches kudzu on the grill
Salt shaker swallowed standing still
She pours a cup for empty air
Wipes a ring that isn't there
She serves the rust she serves the moss
Time stops moving at her cross
No customers just growing things
She hums a tune the wild birds sing
Ticket stub burns in your jeans pocket
Factory whistle you can't stop it
She checks her watch the hands are gone
Only moss marks where the dawn broke
She serves the rust she serves the moss
Time stops moving at her cross
No customers just growing things
She hums a tune the wild birds sing
Bus engine coughs at the corner stop
You snap the sign reading Best Pie Top
She waves a rag a flash of white
Moss glows gold in morning light
She serves the rust she serves the moss
Time stops moving at her cross
No customers just growing things
She hums a tune the wild birds sing
Shutter clicks the bus pulls away
Moss keeps growing on her tray
