momento

I'm standing on the third level
drifting through a sea of blackness
surrounded by the colorful lights of
New York..
I carry drink after drink to the young
and old couples who smile
and laugh,
and chat.
We sail under the Brooklyn Bridge
and around the island
of Manhattan to the East River.
The Girl from Ipanema hums lightly.
It is a sound that blends nicely
with the clinking and clanking
of forks and knives on plates
and coffee cups and tall water glasses
landing lightly on clothed tables.
We begin to round the Statue of Liberty.
It is majestic.
Floating around this wonderous woman,
the mumuring stops as the moths spot their light.
They all forget their food and
migrate to the side of the boat to point and take pictures
and smile
and laugh
and chat.
I am left in the room to pick up
soiled napkins and finished dinner plates.
I glance through the window momentarily
as I fill my tray with coffee cups
and cocktail glasses and watch
the Statue of Liberty shine her torch
and stare blindly ahead.
I am distracted by flashes of light
and as my eyes refocus through the glass,
I am presented with couple after couple
standing along the side of the boat.
The women are wearing their mates' jackets
with their arms wraped around each other.
Her head leans on his shoulder.
I briefly look for someone who stands alone
or without a significant other.
I cannot find one.
I find myself feeling like one of these empty cocktail glasses.
Sitting alone and feeling abandoned by the person who wanted you the most.
You hold remnants of whatever you came in contact with last.
It stains your own existance.
The statue passes and everyone returns to their seats
continuing smiling,
and laughing,
and chatting.
They are unaware of the unforgetable, incredible
moment they were just presented with.
My work resumes.
The moment is gone.

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