Everything you need
Everything you want
At the Mall
Clothes for school, clothes for work
At the Mall
Running shoes, party shoes,
Fill your house, your garage
At the Mall
Come today, come tomorrow
Hang out here. Meet your friends
At the Mall
Short of cash.  Charge it now
At the Mall.
Everything you need
Everything you want
At the Mall

indoor garden
the artificial color
of roses




I am a woman alone, sipping wine in a corner café. On this last Thursday of November the Brussels sky is overcast.  The awning on the tobac across the street flaps in the wind.

bell above the door–
settling near the window
a few dried leaves

The café, named after a local beer, has blue décor. Blue and white tiles on the floor, blue and white ceramic plates on a ledge along the walls, blue and white half curtains on the windows, a blue haze of smoke swirled across the ceiling by a creaking paddle fan.  The proprietress, wiping glasses behind the bar, has a cigarette burning in an ashtray. Two customers drink coffee and smoke.  I light up my own.

pop music–
unintelligible words
French or English

Outside, snow flurries, spattering shoppers’ coats, parked cars, the tobac awning.  The old fashioned pendulum clock loudly ticks away the afternoon. Dusk darkens into night.  Lights come on outside and in the café.  Through my window reflection I see a familiar figure hunched against the wind-blown snow.  His conference over, my husband joins me.

cold hands in mine
he orders brandy for two–
a Thanksgiving toast

Adelaide B. Shaw lives in Millbrook, NY with her husband. She has three children and six grandchildren. She writes haiku and other Japanese short form poetry and has been published in many journals. Her collection of haiku, An Unknown Road, placed 3rd in the Mildred Kanterman Merit Book Award for 2009. A sampling of her work may be found on her blog: