Apple-Ball Roast

As I adjusted my suit at the ball,
Upon me did a young but worn angel fall
For the first time.

With short and wavy hair the waitress,
Somewhat tall,
Came from the back room to offer me
Some apple balls,
Which I accepted.

She smiled, young but with a crease by each eye,
And offered to water them, put them on rice, and then fry
The balls if I came to the back room.

In the stuffy back room of the ballroom kitchen I waited,
Then I, by the waitress, was brought riced apple balls plated
Along with two glasses of wine.

I drank my glass and we laughed for a bit,
Until, on the door, we heard three swift hits,
And in came a male cook.

We hid the wine before he could ask,
So instead he asked of some menial task,
And began to leave.

To look proper, I thought I'd leave too,
But I said by mistake to the waitress, "I love you",
And embarrassed her in front of the cook until I added
"In a platonic way."

It was then that I shook off my dream,
And I awoke where I lay,
In the sunbeam through the window
Of midday.

Late for the market I raced out of my room
And out to my car
And then soon I was at the market
After travelling not far.

Sad for the dream, I wandered around
And wondered what life would be like if I had stayed,
If I could,
If I had not heard the sound
Of three knocks on that dusty door of wood.

And then I saw a phantom, a ghost,
Who looked like the wavy-haired waitress from the dream.
I asked, as a joke to myself,
"Have you ever made an apple ball roast
For a man at a ball in a dream?"

The meal made no sense
And I turned to leave,
But the look on her face hence:
She, for a moment, seemed to believe.

She then smiled and laughed
"You can't be the guy,
I'm just being daft."
And as she laughed I saw a crease by each eye.

She did not turn to leave as her speech suggested,
But instead her feet and her gaze were firmly arrested,
And her self-deprecating smile turned to wonder.
"Perhaps you'd like to leave here and join me
For an apple-ball meal."
And I took her arm the way she had done
The night before and could feel
Her lean in to my arm and smile the smile
Of an old sould and then say,
"Or perhaps a meal that exists."
And we left her friend at the market
And walked away.