Digested.

Thoroughly digested.

Chin wiped clean.
Napkin folded and laid gentle down as if for someone else to use
or maybe oneself even, later, again.
Yes, maybe.

Resting on lap like a prayer of thanks.
Gratitude.
Stillness, for a moment.

And yet thoroughly digested.

Done with it.
All of it.

One leans on the counter
slowly placing feet on ground.

The bar stool was just a bit too high for comfort after all.

Digested.

Losing balance was a possibility.
We knew this.

Both on getting on and off, but also while there.

We managed.
And then
I managed.

Saying thank you
I leave
gently closing the door
the sound of rusted wind chimes.

Thoroughly digested.