In The Tea Room

When we drink our teas
and eat our pastries
in close proximity to strangers

there's always one,
is there not, whose
booming bass voice carries.

It dominates the room until...
a light, crystal clear melody
intervenes

and invites the audience
to listen to her song instead.
The bombastic bass turns up the volume...

and my wife touches my arm.
An agreed sign.
It's a signal I understand.

The booming bass is mine.

Chastened, subdued, ashamed,
I shrink into myself.
In silence I sip my tea.