Laurie Kuntz

 

Carrying the Tray

I was 17 and held a tray of hope,
joy, and desire to fill the world
with a burgeoning me.

I suggested to my mother
that for the summer,
I wanted to be a waitress
rather than a file clerk in Metropolitan Life.

A waitress makes tips,
meets celebrities sitting at shined tables,
 and is never chained to a file cabinet.

My mother admonished loudly,
as mothers are wont to do:
How could I give up
a good file clerking 9 to 5 job,
and besides I’m too weak
to carry those big trays of food,
I’ll never be able to be a waitress.

My working days are far gone
as is my mother's scold,
and I never did become a waitress,
or get tips, or escape that 9 to 5 desk,

but I did carry trays that sometimes
were heavy and unfairly balanced,
never faltering, never spilling
the morsels of hope contained
on those fragile plates.


Laurie Kuntz is a four-time Pushcart Prize nominee and two-time Best of the Net Nominee, in 2024, she won a Pushcart Prize.  She  published six books of poetry; her latest book is  That Infinite Roar, published by Gyroscope  Press. Her themes come from working with Southeast Asian refugees, living as an expatriate in Japan, the Philippines, Thailand, and Brazil, and raising a husband and son.

https://lauriekuntz.myportfolio.com/home-1