A Warning

She walked in and signed the papers
With black ink and an unsteady hand.
The man collected them and tapped them
On the desk to line up each page.

The clock on the wall never left midnight.
The papers were laid on the desk and
His sweaty hands were folded resting on top.
She noticed his watch was broken.

A breath…then words ended the silence.
He spoke with memorized lines,
Explaining what she had done. He thanked her.
She noticed his voice was cold.

Nodding, she said nothing, but thought
"How can he work without windows in this heat?"
As she left, she walked out past the waiting line.
No waive, no good bye…just her name in ink.

This poem has no relationship with the one following.