She looks at the world with a skeptical stare.
Anxious to Please: 7 Revolutionary Practices for the Chronically Nice
The perfect Seattle book. My friend shows up on time.
She has eyes that penetrate with distrust.
1. One must show up.
I order herbal Chai, he orders Snow White, a green tea.
She rarely wants anything to do with anyone.
2. One must be present when one shows up.
How can he see clearly, distracted by his cloudy lenses…
She guards her words, a dragon in front of her castle-home.
3. One must keep the commitment one makes.
We are friends, yet never before met for tea.
She’s wary of people; has names for them: grabbers, swindlers, child thieves.
4. One must keep one’s word.
The question, how can he see, is blatantly consuming me.
She’ll bark and bite and scratch your eyes like a cat, a lion.
5. Be here now.
He said he’d be here and he is. But am I?
She’s used to a fight, you can see it in her untamed hair.
6. One must say what one has to say.
Another question puzzles me, how well do I know my friend?
She’s used to sitting on curbs alongside the sidewalk.
Lost wondering what habits people cultivate.
How well can he see with such dusty lenses?
She’s grown up fast and fighting.
A micro fiber cloth in my bag, I watch his eyes through the dust.
She won’t allow herself to be pushed around.
Wonder about the 7 Revolutionary Practices.